[Canibus]
I'm the black mutant of rap music, half-human half-Vladimir Putin
After plasma transfusion I became Rasputin
The master of translucence who lives in a green house
Creatin green gas pollution, smokin hash from hookahs
Before Lucifer sent me back to the future to smash computers
Assassinate classes of students
I spare those who show classic improvement
Produce magic acoustics, supreme music using dreams so lucid
I can visualize my future and chose it, I never abuse it
I'm ruthless but Canibus is super illumines
You know what? I read the blueprint
Sometimes it seems like my +Eyes+ are +Wide Shut+ like Stanley Kubrick
Mic Club the Curriculum II, I changed the name
cause I ain't in business no more with you-know-who
He stole money from Killah Priest too, his name rhymes with Clue
I found out the same time as you
You know what happens when you come from dishonest roots
You put roots on me, I put roots on you
"We live in a free country," that phrase is so fuckin funny
We know freedom is based off the money
Resources to hide behind lawyers, it must be lovely
When nobody can touch your lunch meat
We brainwashed, we can't get these white collar stains off
Poor Bernard Madoff, belongs in the graveyard
The stock market trade off, doesn't pay off
We get laid off, the country spirals into chaos
I'm no genius, I know enough not to trust FEMA
Their vaccines give you eczema of the penis
The Tuskegee Jesus, verses a sneaky Tuskegee Demon
What you gon' do, when you see this?
The oldest religions, the coldest magicians
Transmittin live from Hell, with heat stroke symptoms
Symbicort is a success for those short of breath
Got to wait for the next check, cause I can't afford it yet
DZK come slaughter the set, tell Warbux he got next
Post Traumatic War Lab Stress
[DZK]
I always open wide like a great white, mouth full of steak knives
Chewin through the sewer's main line 'til it drain dry
And when you're waist high in waste, I make planned attacks
on every last base camp in your wasteland
I scheme for weeks and draft designs
on how to craft my rhymes like a mastermind
Whether young or past your prime, I'll eat you alive
Ain't no motherfuckin reason to try, just die
RRRAH~! Hope you're ready to run
I'll cut the tongue out of my son just to stay number one
No one'll ever sit on my throne except my clone replica
who'll never be better than what they stole the genetics from
Gangbang, the beats we slang language
which alleviates your teenage angst and break cages
Now we're runnin through the streets with our leash off
Eatin all your stray pets shittin on your police cars
Cause I'm a beast dog, you don't want no beef punk
Hit you with a meat log bigger than a tree trunk
I kick the shit that make you pee all on your jeans chump
Clean up after my show, better bring a steam pump
I fuckin breathe funk, ain't no fuckin Tic-Tac existin
that's big enough to clean up this act, you're trippin
You cannot begin to comprehend
if you cross me the position you'll all be in
This isn't battle rap, maggot, this is me
with a battle axe swingin through your Cadillac imagine that
You fuckin headless metal wreckage in the shattered glass
I give a fuck about yo' backpack and faggot ass
Dim those lights, I'm kimbo Slice on a mic
But I don't lose none of my big pro fights
I just bruise dudes twice my size and crews move
When I maneuver through 'em smooth they know who's who
I clear the room with a sonic boom and nuclear plume
You should assume I ain't got a lot of provin to do
I'm bring doom to musicians with a feminine groom
Kanye West, best believe I'm lookin at you
[Warbux]
Call it ill by design, that's how to define us
Cause in the Warlab believe we got it down to a science
This is underground at its finest; the most talented rhymers around
Shittin on all of you clowns and cowards who sign us
So go ahead you'll have hell of a time
Tryin to find a rapper with lines as compellin as mine
You talkin 'bout a fellow with the will to confine himself
to a cellar developin his rhymes for years that's still on his grind
This is Melatonin Magik
Y'all wet behind the ears like playin telephone with faggots
So let em know, they spendin O's on cellulose and acid
Cause heads'll roll, we send 'em home in yellow woven baskets
The ninja rap star just explodes on the scene
My blades'll cut up your back like a rowin machine
It could get ugly if they don't intervene
Cause I could make your life flash before your eyes like I'm throwin it beams
I'm incoherent or so it would seem
No I'm esoteric and don't care if you know what I mean, that's the spirit
Cause its apparent if you took half of what passes for lyrics
and compared them to mine, hip-hop should be fuckin embarrassed
So did you really want to flow with the Gods?
I'm too educated, haters couldn't cope with the odds
See I studied Biggie and 'Pac, Hova and Nas
Paganini and Bach, Beethoven and Brahms
You are now in the presence of a master musician
I craft my rap with the precision of a mathematician
or a surgeon, performin a thoracic incision
A magician escapin out of his shackles in prison
Before you could even finish saying "Oh my God~!"
I'll spit a motherfuckin verse to fill your whole iPod
I'm a Rip the Jacker protege
Motivated by the golden age of rap back in the older days
The incredible little fellow with rhythm and timin on instrumentals
The shit I said in a rhyme considered a federal crime
like blowin off your head with a nine
Anyone with a shred of intelligence could tell it's just ahead of its time
I'm too sick, ain't even talkin 'bout the music
Keep my fuckin name out of your mouth, need a toothpick?
You a little confused like, "Who's this dude?"
("This is a W-A-R-B-U-Xclusive")
The underdog, like back in the bible with Noah's arc
to entrusted military titles to Joan of Ark
to Napolean Bonaparte down to Rosa Parks
And the medics attempting rescue, breathin on Owen Hart
This fucker 'Bux is the shit
So who really gives a fuck if he's bustin a clip
in public drunk in the trunk of your whip
The diabolical, alcoholical, comically
pharmaceutically phenominal product of poppin pills
And you are not as ill, check your doctor's bill
I'm more dangerous in the streets than a toxic spill
Yo this is fifty bars of sickness
Consider it a Christmas gift to you
'Bis don't forget this
Post Traumatic WarLab Stress Lyrics performed by Canibus are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Post Traumatic WarLab Stress Lyrics performed by Canibus is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD