Buckingham Palace

CanibusCanibus 

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Canibus

Germaine Williams (born December 9, 1974) better known by his stage name Canibus, is a Jamaican-American rapper, actor and member of The HRSMN, Sharpshooterz, Cloak N Dagga, The Undergods, and one-half of T.H.E.M. Canibus rose to fame in the mid-Nineties. About.com placed him #32 on their list of the Top 50 MCs of Our Time (1987-2007), while in 2012 The Source placed him nº 44 on their list of the Top 50 Lyricists of All Time. more »

Year:

1998

3:41

131 Views

Playlists:

#2

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Verse 1: 
Yo  Yo  Aye Yo! 
I stand outside the gates of Buckingham Palace  selling reefer 
Puffing a challis with the beef eaters. 
Gettin' so high that whenever I drop shit 
It'll land on the window of your airplane cockpit. 
Canibus with the hot shit  "Crazy I. Click" 
Niggas is bloody idiots thinkin' that they can stop this. 
I'll increase my strength  to a super human extent 
Nigga your rhyme ain't worth six pence. 
And if you can hear, smell, see, touch, and taste.... 
Then you don't need six senses to feel me punch you in the face. 
>From Princeton, to ????? my lyrics invade Europe like Joseph Stalin, 
And murder niggas for rhymin'. Spittin fire.... 
With gasoline filled saliva, drunk as Lady Diana's driver with 
reporters 
Behind her. Alcohol in the hands of 
A minor. I got you panicking like bombs, with 30 second timers. 
Clear the building, evacuate women and children.... 
F*ck what you feelin' nigga I came here to kill 'em. 
Straight shittin', from New York to Great Britain, 
And when we do shows we make the queen pay admission 
What! 
Chorus: 
Canibus: When I say "Can-I" you say "Bus" 
Canibus: Can-I 
Crowd: Bus 
Canibus: Can-I 
Crowd: Bus 
Canibus: When I say "Can-I" you say "Bus" 
Canibus: Can-I 
Crowd: Bus 
Canibus: Can-I 
Crowd: Bus 
Verse 2: 
Yo, Yo 
Prepare for the worst. This next verse is the face of death 
Me without lyrics is like a porn flick without sex, 
Illmatic, my lyrical skills are Jurassic 
With more flavor then skittles when not digitally mastered. 
I go off like a cannon, and blow up the planet with "No Fear" 
Like them clothes white boys be wearing. 
I'm tougher than denim, lethal like venomous snake bites 
The marijuana makes my eyes bright red like brake lights. 
There ain't a party I couldn't rock, believe that. 
There ain't a microphone brave enough to give me feedback. 
I'm strong my word is "Bond" like James, 
Niggas be tryin' to test but they "week" like 7 days. 
MC's run away when I kick it, they act so chicken 
They should come with a large drink and a biscuit. 
My styles radioactive, massive atomic, I plan to push the Earth 
In Front of Haley's comet. Breaking the "Facts Of Life" down 
Like Tudy, I'm raw like sushi, with more vocab, then 
Three fucking Fugees. So recognize or be hospitalized 
Because lyrically on a scale of 1-10 I'm 25! 
Chorus: 
Verse 3: 
Yo, Yo, 
A little bit of weed and some hennesy, 
Got me ready to set it with kinetic energy. 
See I need much more energy then my enemies 
If I want to make more Bill's then Bellamy. 
So I could be on MTV, with women constantly telling me, 
I resemble Billy D. I make fly rhymes to get my name on the scene. 
And when I'm on the scene I do shows to get the green. 
Then I take the green by a automobile machine, for 
That thing on page 43, in Jet Magazine. 
Canibus is the ultimate executioner's dream. Swinging the guillotine. 
'cause whenever the head is severed from the human body 
With a sharp enough weapon, the brain remains conscious for 10 
seconds. 
Long enough for me to give you one last message, 
And when you get to hell you can tell Lucifer I said it. 
Don't ever get it confused. Fuckin' with Canibus the human "rubics 
cube" 
Like you got something to prove. 
Yo, whoever grabs the mic after me'll get booed, and get everything 
In the club thrown at you and your crew. 
>From moette bottles to bar stools, fruits and foods, if you got a 
album 
Out you get hit with your CD too. 
Runnin' outside, lying, crying, denying that you ain't 
The Gay Rapper, but you got fucked by him. 
What's the difference, ya'll niggas still ain't in lyrical fitness. 
Too busy mixing your business, with your bitches 
While I be in the lab composing forbidden scriptures 
So wicked, I Satan ejaculating on his fingers 
Like Dirk Diggler, in the middle of Boogie Nights 
Sniffin' white livin' the hype, he ruined his life. 
But I'm a MC of a different type, yeah that's right. 
Make sure your shit is right, or I'm a snatch your mic. 
Nigga! 
Chorus to fade

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