Chorus: Canibus
There's nothing left to sacrifice, Rip the Jacker will attack the mic
Si Development will crash your satellite
We micro manage our stanzas, spit answers to questions they ask us
We are gods on the mic not rappers
I like it slow too, something I can flow to
It makes it easier to remember what I wrote to
How many times I done told you?
I only feel social when I spit vocals, let me show you
The phantom of a monster, a monster of the opera
With no mask and Iron Man / Doctor Doom armour
Infra red, one spotter
Gatling gun shot down your soldiers like terracotta statues in Nicaragua
The hubris of the humans, they overlooked the music
With alternative futures, only concerned with acoustics
I wrote a rhyme that was infinite, the Brotherhood proved it
The formula was conducive, an evolution in music
Some misconstrued it, said it was bullshit but they can't stop the movement
One thousand three hundred mixes later we still producing new shit
Canibus spit intelligent statements, describing every constellation
Every manifestation
We are the gods in human form, a pyro-telekinetic human torch
I pour my bars over the music 'til it hardens
Chorus: Canibus
There's nothing left to sacrifice, Rip the Jacker will attack the mic
Si Development will crash your satellite
What's Left To Sacrafice Lyrics performed by Canibus are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that What's Left To Sacrafice Lyrics performed by Canibus is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD