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""C" Section"

""C" Section"

This is the C section
Rippin and wreckin the lyrical legends sendin y'all to mic club heaven
This is the C section
A lyrical legend second to none in this profession

I spit it exquisite
And rip it minute by minute
I'm in it to win it
You fuckin rhyme with bis you finished
Lyrical menace scrape enamel off your teeth like a dentist
With a senator minister from the executive senate
Pro-gression followed by metaphorical methods
Testing 1 2 3 4 testing testing
Supreme supremacist nemesis to competitors
Predators eat intestines of anything they entrusted in
Slice you like lettuce and celery start seven
Then make a mc salad out of suckas and sell it
For an expensive percentage
With nine tenths of the credit
Drink red bull beverage to increase lyrical leverage
I only give respect to mic club members and my own mentors
In the center of my circle where I dare you to enter
This is art imitating life imitating art
Imitating the brain simulating thoughts when I talk
Idealistically I spit for free
The cinography of the rhyme is what balances me
Challenges me
E A six speed prowlers
Superior air power
Fly around us with propulsion that's soundless
Spittin rhymes out by the thousands
Nitro-glycerin tablets under the tongue calm me down a bit
Attitude cynicism and lassitude
Battle you? come on dude I should slap you fool
Spit what I'll leave your lips numb the friction is so sick son
Your children disappear from a trition
Rhythmic high intensity conflict is a given it
Especially if Canibus is doin the rippin
You snippin to clippin in the C-section incisions
With scissors with rubber ergonomic grip for the fingers
Liars for hire with a defense like Jeffery Fygar
And rock it like thugs who work for mic club
Hyped up and tear the mic up my man
Move forward as expeditiously as I can
Ain't nobody in the world like Bis
The nitrous with radio telescopic devices
Same type shit
Facially hairless igogarious Jamaican-American
Lyricist turned microphone terrorist
Airlift me off the front line to my therapist
So I can sit in his chair and tell him how much I care for this
This is what they want this is what they love
To engage in the exchange of ideas and drugs
While I'm in the cut satellite trackin you rappers
With months of food rations beneath the catacombs of Paris
Theories of super-lattice and super-savage
Atomic attack tachometers flash when I punch the gas bitch
The farther I climb the harder I rhyme
You gotta face death and survive to feel more alive
The quality of life is an illusion of the mind
Super-imposed lines look two-dimensional from the side
According to the science of the C-section applied
If they say I'm the best after I die don't be surprised
I C-section the sky let my energy rise
At the moment of truth I know it's definitely my time
As my soul is eased through the sive I'll be grateful because I lived
The only drawback is that I didn't have kids
To C-section my beautiful whiz
And see the resemblance of my face in hers or his
Who knows what the future will bring
It stresses me to think
This mic meant everything now it doesn't seem important
Now I gotta follow orders defend borders
From Maine to California Seattle to Florida
If I could talk to the Oracle I know what I'd ask her
I'd speak to her about my passions
As the hourglasses turn my life passes
I'll just wait till I see the master and I'll just ask him
Forget it that's the future this is the present
A message to anybody listenin to the C section

[Chorus x2]


"100 Bars"

"100 Bars"

Yeah!!! That's the beat right there.
I'm about to black out with 100 bars on some professional shit.
So don't try this at home, yo.

Yo, yo, yo
My style of rhymin is ancient like Aztecs and Mayans
Because I recognize its all about timin
Me and my freestyle alliance practicin African voodoo science
In front of 20 ft. bonfires lookin skyward
Calculating May 5, 2000 the nine planets'll be in alignment
The arrival of the prophet in the cockpit
Of a starship the size of the Hale-Bopp comet
With mercury ion rockets
And a big ass "Canibus comin soon" poster on the side of it
I'm known geographically and intergalactically
That's why I got extraterrestrials that wanna battle me
They even tried kidnappin me
And they would've snatched me
If their craft didn't get trapped in the Earth's gravity
Engines stalled and failed. Crashed into a farmer's field
And that's really what caused Roswell
Undercover operatives workin for COM 12
Disguised as a nigga signed with a record deal
Lyrically I'm off scale
So all hail or get tossed towards Hell, whatever y'all feel
Briusin niggas, confusin niggas like Chip Fu from the Fu-Schnickens
Hit you with nuclear cruiser missiles
Hear the wild wolf growl
Styles stockpiled for miles from the ground to the clouds
Wack niggas wanna be down but its not allowed
Interrupt the cipher unannounced and you'll get punched in the mouth
With the southpaw southern fist
I'll bust your shit. Swell your lip and get the Bubba shrimp
Back the tougher shit. What a wimp
You giant Goliath. Niggas get shot with a rubber sling
I'm an experiment gone bad.
My brainwaves on an encephalograph show that I'm stark ravin mad
Your whole scientific staff'll get killed in a nuclear blast
When I throw the formula stashed in my hand
Flammable liquids in the lab explode
And you get stabbed with all the flyin glass
Trained to blow up commercial aircrafts
Trained in chemical weapons class
Just to see how long a nigga's breath'll last
I put him in a leather mask
Spray his ass with a can of pepper gas
Then watch him grab his neck and gag
Watch the nigga choke to death as I laugh
"You wanna battle?" is the type of question you should never ask
Nigga, pick a tougher task. See who the fuck'll last
Whoever lose'll get a solderin iron up the ass
You need to recognize
My hand is quicker than the eye
Quicker than the 5 speed Jamiroquai drives
A lifespan longer than 9 lives. Infinite rhymes that can't die
A nigga with a divine mind
I dedicate this to the wise. Dedicate it to dames
Dividin myself into 100 ten times
You can't deny the offerin's an offer
Flows that glow with aurora's the spark of light
Water fly like a saucer
With the torque of a Porsche
Murder a million MCs then autograph all of their coffins
Been gettin it on since I been born and I'm a live long
And I'm a be gettin it on till I'm gone
Look at all the stages I been on. All the songs that I spit on
I took an oath to rip everything I get on
A nigga like me should have Carpal Tunnel syndromes
In the wristbones from grippin microphones this long
I'm just a small fish in a big pond
And gets pissed off whenever I gets picked on
Nigga try to flip and get flipped on
My army march a million strong
Like the nation of Islam with suede timbs on
Extremely hostile
Fully armed troops dressed in frog suits and night vision goggles
A lyrical lynch mob
Shittin on niggas drawn to a hideous form with horns and a mink on
Duckin down low like Vietnam fightin the Vietcong
Screamin "incomin" when I see a bomb
Speak to your leader. Surrender your arms
You need about a million more soldiers to even the odds
Plus 800,000 to even consider a war
And 200,000 more to even look hard
You better drop your flag and withdraw
My cavalry charge accompanied by a blizzard of wicked metaphors
And smash y'all. Attach y'all to the back of my horse
And drag y'all across the motherfuckin asphalt
9 out of 10 niggas is frauds
You know who you are always talkin about your bitches and your cars
Your jewelry and your girls. It's like we from two different worlds
You motherfuckers really get on my nerves
Cause I'm beyond them, on some futuristic cyborg shit
I close my eyes when I freestyle so I could read what picture crossed in
Then raise my arms like a sorcerer and cast a fireball into the audience
To barbecue your brain organs
You feel like you've been thrown in a microwave oven
I flame broil suckers and hit 'em with some more shit
The raw shit. Call my reinforcements, the four horsemen
Take a big piece of chalk and draw a line across the stage pulpit
I dare a motherfucker to cross it
I'll even call my man Black Rob at two in the mornin
Tell him it's important. Tell him to call Sting 3 way and sing a chorus
Break your camcorders so you motherfuckers can't record it
Call the news, I'll kill your reporters
Start a lawsuit, I'll kill your lawyers
Fuck the soft shit and fuck what y'all think
My album's gold cause my album was the bomb, shit
Y'all niggas got your ass beat cause you asked for it
Got your picture taken and put in a tabloid
Cause you a man and you like to touch little boys
You fuck 'em in the ass, then you give 'em cash for it
That's some sick shit homeboy
A hundred years ago, they'd have took you to see Sigmund Freud
You fraudulent. Feminine. Fragile as a feather is
With an effortless blow, I'll crack your whole skeleton
You think you're better than Canibus, where's the evidence?
You got below average intelligence and poor penmanship
You need to shut the fuck up cause your breath stink
Take fifty cents and purchase a pack of peppermints
Battlin me you never win
You thought you was the only nigga that could sneak a weapon in?
Nigga guess again
Cause after I'm finished wreckin this shit
I'm a drink a whole bottle of Henney and go fuck a lesbian


"2000 B.C. (Before Canibus)"

"2000 B.C. (Before Canibus)"

Yo! My offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad
Knock a nigga unconcious and talk shit
In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object
Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'
So in the ring, you cannot win
The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in
With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin
knock you out like ten shots of vodka and gin
The beautiful blend of power and strength
From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end
I verbally burn a nigga,
Lyrically hurt a nigga,
Pull a voodoo verse on a nigga,
Kennedy curse a nigga,
Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?
Who can embarrass a man?
Bite you with fangs and mangle ya hands
On candid cam, the Canibus can
The Canibus can with the stamina to damage a man

It's been a long time,
I shouldn't have left you,
Without a strong rhyme to step to
I told y'all (C'mon!!) I roast y'all (C'mon!!)
So come on (Hold on) Hold on!!
It's been a long time,
I shouldn't have left you,
Without a strong rhyme to step to
I told y'all (C'mon!!) I roast y'all (C'mon!!)
So come on (Hold on) Hold on!!

Yo! I spit for it (lie for it!)
Live for it (die for it!)
Back out the nine, commit a homicide for it
If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it
I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it
you mad at the last album, I apologise for it,
Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it,
But this time for 99 I got 5 on it
You should double up and put a dime on it,
Matter of fact, triple your nickle and put 14.99 on it
I'ma shine on it,
Watch Flex drop a bomb on it
About ten times on it
Watch people call a request line for it
Cypher sounds keep pushin rewind on it
Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it
12 O'Clock in the morning you'll be standin on line for it
I'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it
Coz I tear down mics and put a out of order sign on it


Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics
Of a hollow tip at point blank distance
I flip shit when I spit shit
Father forgive Bis,
I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians
Coz they sounded like idiots
They went from silver to gold to platinum
After the millenium they'll probably be wearin' Iridium
They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick they'd probably cum helium
Y'all niggaz can't be serious, I was nice before ice
Before Christ, before the words let there be light
And a light took over the night
I was born with a mic
Lord of the mic before all plant and animal life
Took this rap shit to new heights
Before the Wright brothers took flight
Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes
Before MC's picked up pens and started to write
Before promotional marketin' and ?posterlights?
The Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics
Punch out lights
Punch out your motherfuckin eyesight
For the title bought fight
Ask Top Phife, I snatch the track for half price
The Canibus is too nice
Gimme that mic!



"2000 B.C. (Emphasys & Elixir Remix)"
(feat. 4 Horsemen (Canibus, Kurupt, Ras Kass, Killah Prie))

"2000 B.C. (Emphasys & Elixir Remix)"
(feat. 4 Horsemen (Canibus, Kurupt, Ras Kass, Killah Prie))

[Verse 1: Canibus]
Yo! My offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad
Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit
In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object
Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'
So in the ring, you cannot win
The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in
With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin
knock you out like ten shots of vodka and gin
The beautiful blend of power and strength
From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end
I verbally burn a nigga
Lyrically hurt a nigga
Pull a voodoo verse on a nigga
Kennedy curse a nigga
Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?
Who can embarrass a man?
Bite you with fangs and mangle ya hands
On candid cam, the Canibus can
The Canibus can with the stamina to damage a man

[Chorus: Canibus (Killah Priest)]
It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you (should have never left you)
Without a strong rhyme to step to
I told y'all (C'mon!!) I roast y'all (C'mon!!)
So come on (Hold on) Hold on!!
It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you (should have never left you)
Without a strong rhyme to step to
I told y'all (C'mon!!) I roast y'all (C'mon!!)
So come on (Hold on) Hold on!!

[Verse 2: Killah Priest]
Thieves in the temple, a priest murdered at the doorstep
He heard the hounds of horses, surround his fortress
Look down, the whole town with torches
Blood on the door knock where our lord slept
Night before the see-er saw it, so they slept nautious
Broken windows with canisters, hidden cameras
Masked man at the top of the bannister
Shattered glass everywhere, someone pushed his man down the stairs
A knife in the back with a note attached, read 'Beware'
Looked up, saw a blowin curtain, a open window
and heard the whistle of the soft air, someone screamin 'warfare'
So Solomon takes cover, a servant yells out 'the bitch is cursed
don't touch her', but he trusts her, he also loves her
Cause her to hold the sharing, his bright morning star
His lil' way out the valley, a spy cut her throat inside a dark alley
Someone knocked his daughter off a balcony, bloodshed in Galilea
The cowardly flee to the hills of Cabrera
Thieves of a hundred gates, the queen of cities
No one shows pity, flyin spirits, floatin demons, fallen saints
Soldiers walkin by their ranks, service of the East gate, scared to drink
What would our leaders think? Every man lookin at each other, scared to blink
The seed inside the sanctuary, scary
Portraits of Saint Mary, with Mona Lisa
The Queen of Cheeba, strokin a cheetah
Other mid-wives sayin 'I don't like the way he treats her'
Pass the reefer, bass cheeba, Solomon judge wisely
Wisdom spoken of highly, hair knotty, ask God 'Why me?'

[Chorus: Canibus]

[Verse 3: Ras Kass]
I'm live evil, I know live people
Anxious to bang ya wit heavy metal like Magneto
Now who really on some gangsta shit?
Not every nigga with a stomach tattoo, bandana and a click homey
You ain't dope just cuz ya sniff it, I lace ya blunt with it
That just makes ya a wack rapper and a drug addict, get it
These niggaz rhyme like they AK spray shit
Sell a ki of yay shit, gotta ride, homicide, every single day shit
Get smacked in the streets by some real nigga who don't play shit
Hit the pavement screaming it's just entertainment
And that ain't it, life sucks like pedagation
My obligation, expose all ya funny bunnies
Rappers actin slash fudge packin for the money
Cuz next week if the new fad was hip hop fags
You'll find a lot of these thug niggaz in drag

[Verse 4: Kurupt]
I'm ghetto symatic, automatic static
Catatonic, supersonic, ebonic chronic addict
Astronomical when the thunder dome sinner
In the depths of the dungeon
Dangerous, disasterly
Catastrophes, metamorphis into a pit
To run and die, cracking the bricks on the walls
Camoflauge on the side of the lodge
Bout to put something up in the garage
Its time for World War 3 mufucka!
You know me Young Gotti mufucka!
I holds the microphone like a grudge
In a 'llac laid back so back the fuck up
Dis might give you a heart attack
It's real simple can't get more simple than that (than that, than that)



"33 3's"

"33 3's"

[Intro, imitating the owl from the "Tootsie Pop" commercials]
One ... two ... three...
[Chomping sound] ... three!!

Yo, in linear terms, my thirty-three degree, and a
Words will give you thirty-third degree burns
First I write thirty-three lines to a verse
About how I created the Earth out of thirty-three quirks
Thirty-three of my peers never thought it would work
For thirty-three days, I started my relentless research
And I figured, if Jigga could do, twenty-two two's
As an mc, then I could do, thirty-three three's
Suddenly it occurred, at three-thirty, on March third
It came to me like God's word
I started to load my thirty-three caliber Mossberg
Went to the top of the Empire State, on thirty-third
Thirty-three gunshots was heard
Thirty-three pedestrians lay wounded or dead, on the curb
Thirty-three squad cars rushed to the scene
As soon as they heard some mad-man had gone berserk
I demanded thirty-three million
Or I was going to kill thirty-three of the women and children in the building
I gave them thirty-three minutes to respond
Then I proceeded to arm, a backpack nuclear bomb
I set the timer for three hours, and three minutes long
Told them not to try nothing funny or I'd kill them all
They still never responded
Until I saw thirty-three of the S.W.A.T. team jump out of three helicopters
I told them for the third and final time
If they crossed the line again, I'd take, thirty-three lives
Three of the hostages started crying
Three of them started wilding, and convinced, three more to start an uprising
Three of them stood to their feet and started freestyling
I didn't know what to do, so I started rhyming
I tried to kick three-hundred bars
But I got picked off by a sniper from thirty-three yards
The bullet hit me but it got lodged, and ricocheted off
Three organs three inches away from my heart
My name went down in history, as the illest MC
Rewind it and count it, thirty-three threes




Yea, yea Can-I-Bus, Mic Club
(Nothin' to prove it's all love)

I bust through like Sputnik 2
This is man's best friend, whoopty-woo
The flag is black, red, and blue
True shoot from the hoopty
Dogs jump out of dooly
But it'll take more than that to move me
Like; wireless mics for tireless nights
Firefights inspire my life, why do I write?
Twenty-year Hip-Hop vet, they perceive me as a threat
They manifest beads of sweat
Examine the blood trail
Squeeze trigger puss drips out of the thumbnails
I smell like gun shells
Polonium, pandemonium with a dose of unknownium
The Soviet Hugo Rodier
Fourth generation roper report
Everything I was taught bore resemblance to my thoughts
The truth and design of the Guggenheim rhyme
Where every line is weaponized then applied
Mob shit, talk it acquisition is sick
I don't miss when I twist the 556
Stand there with arms folded
Firearms make me look large and bloated
("I'ma gonna have to project my voice")
Equipment check, church bells time
("Some of this stuff might get intense")
One more time - Just kill 'em 'Bus
Ain't nobody around to witness nothin'
Heavens devil strangle Hell's Angel with a mic cable
Then J Wells came through

[Sample from Nas @ the L.A. Listening Party on December 14th, 2006:]
"Yo, the niggaz that use to have a nigga a little nervous was like;
B.I.G., 'Pac, (Right), even Canibus, like Eminem them niggaz use to have me like
If we go at it dawg we gotta go HARD!"

"Yo, the niggaz that use to have a nigga a little nervous was like;
B.I.G., 'Pac, (Right), even Canibus, like Eminem them niggaz use to have me like
If we go at it dawg we gotta go HARD!"

Yea, yo
I support a secure change of custody
Don't trust the beat, trust me Canibus the emcee
Without movin' my neck I turn to the left
Yes I am the best you'll learn to respect
'Til your death, Hip-Hop is the body, you are the chest
I am the vest, we are sworn to protect
This behavioural bomb rewritable radio songs
"What station is your radio on?"
My trainin' is worth millions
Imam death squad rush the building
From the frontline with Prince William
I am Prince William's exercise cover and concealment
Prohibit the media from filming
Never in the moment, always thinkin' of the Omen
I pause soldiers, nobody told them
Inoculate; I postulate not your weight
Drop to your face, the active component will not break
My Omanium friend tried to pay me in Yen
I threw the money in his face and said "Pay me again"
You wanna talk to the kid? Enter this ten digit grid
I'll explain to you what I did
"702-386-5397", call, leave a message
Y'all niggaz can't rap, so why you wanna go and do that?
You move the crowd, I move the map
The defying mad Lion, triumph over the rulers of Zion
Fuck your "Blood Diamonds", I'd rather laugh dyin'
Miners in the mine shaft cryin'
"Apocalypto" from GITMO, I'll clash with the last Mayans
The Sun stone science, the black, red and blue alliance
Jump through the fire, you'd be a fool to try it
The fire suit don't fit, NO SHIT!
My Saratoga suit got a customized grip
With a batwing released for both wrist and both feet
Blazing high, but I don't feel no heat
Hip-Hop's master chief, "Here, have a seat"
In the mic booth where I hang slab the meat
Before, during, or after debrief
I'll crack your teeth, don't talk unless if asked to speak
The Rift Valley Fever symptoms could last for weeks
We call a hell in a cell, watch the bastard tweak
Reach 80° degrees North, 14° degrees East
Beneath the ice sheet lies the Spitzberg Beast
Transmission distorted, injuries reported
Mission aborted, follow your orders, move forward
BRAVO! I fell in love with you Suzanne Malveaux
On the down-low, know you know
She talked to the Canibus man
Code name: "Javelin Fangz"
With "Nothing to Prove" to the rap fans
Could've elaborate further but suffice to say
"God damn that emcee made my day"
He's a butcher, a baker, a vapour box maker from Jamaica
Still talkin' trash to the haters
I'll clash with the graders, this is major manual labour
Beta test the data with blue lasers
Canibus wavin' Alice, it's "Nothing to Lose" in Los Angeles
Suing Hip-Hop for the damages
G-4's, 10.4's, still conscious but not for long
Missile lock-on; stop the song


"A Different Vibe In L.A."

"A Different Vibe In L.A."

Doop-doop da-da..
It's a whole different vibe when you in L.A.
Doop-doop da-da..
It's a whole different vibe when you in L.A.
Doop-doop da-da..
It's a whole different vibe when you in L.A.
Doop-doop da-da..
It's a whole different vibe when you in L.A.

[Verse 1]
Yeah, cruisin down Melrose, hella slow in a yellow Marinello
Lookin for who sells shelltoes that I could match with my silk robe
I'm like Hugh Heffner at 26 years old, with clear goals
Yeah I'll take two pair of those
I love the way my toes feel in the cyberfoam soles when I'm doin shows
Who knows, I'm prepared to go to and fro
All I do is tell you dudes where the Western Union dough
You need my social security info?
Here's my tax I.D. number, it's worth ten fold
I remember my first album, it shipped gold
That's a insult, considering I did this one in Kinko's
I'm dying to see what this will sold
Will the critics diss it at all, or will they feed 'Bus to the wolves?
Like I haven't been there before,
but at least I'm on a different vibe now, this year it's on


[Verse 2]
It's definitely a different vibe west of the Prime Meridian
Producers play with live instruments, rhymes are wittier
But don't sleep cuz in a heartbeat Cali is shittin ya
Someone'll put a hit on ya, this'll be where they bury ya
I think it's beautiful, I don't want to be scarin ya
The women are prettier and the climate is superior
Got a girl from Syria, smells like strawberries on her period
I'm serious - that's why I moved in with the chick
We on the top of Mount Olympus, sharin our interests
over a moonlit dinner, burnin some insense
She looks so innocent, next think I know she's pinnin me to the bed
like a scene outta Basic Instinct
Bought her a pink mink and a double link ring
She didn't know I was a rapper and I did my thing-thing
What a coincidence, she listened to Eminem and Nsync
Shaggy, Nelly, and the St. Lunatic clique, Uh-Ohhhh!


[Verse 3]
Yeah baby, Canibus in the flesh
Everybody want a dose of me, come here baby stand close to me
Take a photo with me, take this address
If you develop 'em post one to me
If you miss me and you wanna kiss me then blow one to me
I like your incentricities, tailor-fitting jeans
Tennis bracelets from Tiffany's in Venice, Italy
Are you from the Middle East? (Oh)
I plan to travel there after my new release
I got Timbaland doin some beats
Yeah, his cousin goes to school with my neice
By the way I'm sorta starred, what kinda food do you eat?
Yeah sure hop in the car, we'll cruise the streets
Around here I know alotta cool places to eat
You off from what, noon to three, just roll with me
My homie Lou just two-wayed me from Lagoona Beach
You can meet the rest of the crew, a bunch of super freaks
We got to unwind, we 'bout to hit the road in two weeks, c'mon


Doop-doop da-da.. [repeat to fade]




Yeah, let's go... yo
Aiyyo I put it to you so raw, you probably OD on the floor
That's what you get for disagreein with God
The LeBron James Bond, my aim with the arm is so long
that I can tag along with SOCOM
I spit to the beat, flip like Swizz did to the Beat
At sunrise, I spit to the East
Niggaz talk shit in the streets, when they 'bout to get released
They ain't got no lip for the beast
Make you strip like police, I point the heat
From the hip to get leverage if you more than four deep
Got a pistol grip hawk with a chrome beat, shit is so deep
I check to make sure it's no leaks
Lookin like Jada in a black Jig-ari
Half Jag, half Ferrari, the valet saw me
Shorty wanna know how the flesh work, what's under my sweatshirt
That's why I hit the gym 'til my chest hurt
Next year or summer I'ma kill the conjecture
For now I'm just a hustler tryin to give you my best work


"Aids Is Gold, HIV Is Platinum"
(feat. Lisa Stone)

"Aids Is Gold, HIV Is Platinum"
(feat. Lisa Stone)

Yo yo, I just appeared outta nowhere, 1980 was the year
Engineered as a biological weapon of warfare
Now with this I generate with more fear
Even though back then nobody cared and people wasn't as scared
I never used to get so much attention
Most of the top contenders at the time I was good friends with
For instance my man small pox was hot
He used to SoundScan ten thousand a week and that was a lot
That nigga Hepatitis B, he was hyper than me
He used to get between twelve and twenty thousand a week
Alcohol was the neighborhood star
Bubbling, drugs had niggaz juggling
All kinds of controlled substances
My man cancer was like Charles Manson
Cigarettes almost made the Surgeon General ban them
Homicide was buggin cause he had guns to amp them
And I was on the low amp cause I had a plant kid

[Chorus: Canibus and Lisa Stone x2]
Aids is gold and HIV was platinum
Sit down, ask them where you get your facts from
Five hundred thousand niggaz in the hood with it
And a million more niggaz is gettin ready to get it

Yo, yo, now that millions is dead I'm considered widespread
Number one on the top ten and considered a world wide threat
To all the kids, thirteen to twenty-three tryin
Sex, unsafe sex, you niggaz need to use latex
H-I-V will progress to A-I-D-S
And transform your warm blooded bones to dry flesh
By stressing the immune system
Promiscuous men and women trying to avoid
getting the micro-organism in them
from running up in it raw
Ready and willing, a couple of minutes of a good feeling
is what'll kill them
Break ya body down in steps, breath for breath
In the hospital wit less then a dozen T-cells left


I went from "Killing Them Softly" to killing them harshly
Minorities from twenty to forty can't afford to ignore me
They do my dirty work for me - goin to
raunchy ass parties where they be havin orgies to transport me
Through the semen and blood, needles and drugs
Choose which one of the two demons in evil you trust
Cause the only way I could be detected
is by getting tested and most people don't question
the person they having sex with
as to whether or not they infected
Even the people you already slept wit
wouldn't suspect that they can catch it
Forty percent of the AIDS patients is Afro-Americans
And we only twelve percent of the population
That statement is a fact, latinos and blacks face it
It came straight from the World Health Organization
Its the iron fist, scientist, slash rhyme-chiatrist
Here to diagnose that we dyin quick

[Chorus x2]