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"Watch Who You Beef Wid"

"Watch Who You Beef Wid"

Watch who you beef wid
You need to watch who you beef wid
You need to watch who you beef wid
Watch who you beef wid
You need to watch who you beef wid

Yo, you better watch who you beef wid
You might be walking down the street, then
Suddenly you hear tires screechin
Niggaz'll be hoppin out with heat and
Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standing there screamin
The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten
Nosebleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin
You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason
We even called your fam for ransom, they said, 'Keep him'

Watch who you beef wid
Yea, it ain't no secret
Talkin that street shit'll get you in some deep shit
See, niggaz know who you beef wid,
Where you be at, when you be gone, when you be back
All of my niggaz got doctor degrees in thuggonometry
We all know how to hold the heat properly
And how to conduct an armed robbery for personal property
And can go without food or water for 24 hours at least
We fugitives, who ain't doin a bid, and shoot to live
Even if it means leavin you for dead
Cause niggaz like you get scared, look for loopholes
Pick the phone up and dial 9-uno-uno
What happened to them truant niggaz that you talk about
The crew of niggaz that you never walk without
I know what happened
You heard about the double-action
Portable gatling and y'all don't wanna get blasted


Ay yo we run up in radio stations on some unannounced shit
Catch the DJ off guard and roundhouse him
Duct tape his mouth then, put a pound to his gut
And force him to play 5 cuts off the up and coming album
Just the way I planned it, niggaz'll start to panic
Brains get hijacked like planes'll crashlandin
Bitch niggaz pray to the lord
The black box who was supposed to record
The pilot's voice got destroyed
So watch who you beef wid
And watch who you suck your teeth at
It'll probably be something you regret
Get wet with horizontal rain droplets
Miniature rockets, comin out barrels of metal objects
niggaz get shot in the face
On the ground shakin like tectonic plates that cause earthquakes
Now you got your grill in the ground, how that dirt taste?
You shouldn't have started this shit in the first place


Cause niggaz is comin to get you, ready to rip you
With intercontinental ballistic missiles and pistols
Put a red dot on your head like you Hindu
Then put a hole in you big enough to put my open fist through
We could verbally diss you or we could get physical
Whatever niggaz wanna do, we could do it too
Cause you a sinner, I'm a sinner, we all sinners
We rob niggaz for their presents at their bar mitzvahs
We rob niggaz for their body organs
Sold em to the highest bidders
Things like hearts and livers
One and a half million in cash when it's delivered
They go to Yom Kippur and beg for God to forgive us
So you the type that, find violence real frightening
Or hold your crucifix tighter when shells is firing
Sittin by your bed perspirin, tryin to crawl underneath it
You need to watch who you beef wid


Keep that low-down, stinkin motherfucker
Uh, you need to watch who you beef wid
You need to watch who you beef wid
Yea nigga, watch who you beef wid
Uh, watch who you beef wi


"What's Going On"

"What's Going On"

"What's.. what's.."
"What's going on? What's going on?" [x4]

The club scene is a regular hangout spot for unclean
women in tight jeans frontin like queens
Chickenheads who should be home takin care of their eggs
Instead, they always in the club flirtin with men
No I don't care about no hype-no-holic bitches; all I'm concerned with
is who's bringin they burners in to burn niggaz
While security practice is mediocre proportions
Niggaz is still stealthily sneakin they firearms in
Often, niggaz be acting like they're marksmen
but couldn't hit a stationary object
So how you gonna hit a movin target? Especially if you alcoholic
The party was coconuts until you spoiled it
Nigga what's goin on?

[Chorus: Canibus + samples]
"What's going on? What's going on?"
[Can] What's goin on these days?
[Can] Can't do no hip-hop shows without the gunplay
"What's going on? What's going on?"
[Can] What's goin on? Why is everybody packin?
"While you rappin, I'm busy tryin to sneak the gat in" -> Havoc
"What's going on? What's going on?"
[Can] What's goin on these days?
Can't do no hip-hop shows without the gunplay
"What's going on? What's going on?"
[Can] Before you blaze, think about the lives at stake
[Biggie] "You got a gun up in your waist, please don't shoot up the place"

The other night I seen some kid gettin loud, runnin his mouth
Til somebody pulled the thang-thang out, then shots rang out
This nigga in front of me got his back blown out
On the floor with a piece of his small intestines hangin out
I had to scream on the bouncers to carry him out
They said, "Nah, them niggaz is still bustin in the crowd"
Then they ducked down close to the ground as the bullets whizzed by
Prayin to Allah cause they don't wanna die
But neither do I, fuck it, I gotta be here
As a rap artist, it's a vital part of my career
I swear, y'all niggaz need to chill with that
Bringing your handguns to every God damn club I perform at
Everything from semi-autos to macs
Chrome or black, plastic gats and all that
Believe it or not - the government wants that
So they can use that as an excuse to shut down rap
What's goin on?


All of my hip-hop niggaz should feel what I'm speakin upon
A subject that was touched by Nas and Pharoahe Monch
Bullets - bein shot from guns, guns bein carried by thugs
who come to the clubs to shed blood
Bear in mind, that everytime a nigga reaches for chrome
he jeopardizes more lives than his own
To some this record ain't even relevant until you experience
how a bullet can shatter your dreams in a millisec'
By some thug cats who didn't take that
by bustin a gat, they could render somebody handicapped
and trapped, in a wheelchair over nothin
With the gift of walkin and runnin snatched from them
What the fuck is goin on?

[Chorus x2 to fade]


"Who Owns You?"

"Who Owns You?"


Yo...I thug it wit' you, I slug it wit' you
I had niggas runnin' around like ''yeah 'Bis brung it to you''
Nigga I'll punish you
Catch you in the street like what's the issue
Monkey face I'll monkey flip you
I always wanted to dis you
You ugly as a pit bull motherfucker I'll rip you
This is where the Broad St. bullyin' stops
My bars of gold bullyin' yours are not
Truth is I never thought your metaphors were hot
You just talk a lot a shit cuz your on the Roc'
There's no proof in your "Truth" it was a flop
That's why Jigga signed Cam'ron to take your spot
You think you hot cuz you got a little bling or what not
A typical hustler all you do is think about rocks
With a budget like yours you should a sold more
You probably think you were couped nigga your so wrong
I think Jay fucked you go look at your deal
In that black mink you look like a ape for real
If I was blind and I couldn't tell
I'll probably still hear it from a bitch that you ugly as hell
For starters the Bentley ain't yours it's Shawn Carter's
And if it ain't Shawn's its his partners
Your just another ?convict? artist with frog lips
On the Rocafella roster that follows orders, nigga!
You tryin' too much you lyin' to sluts
You too hyped up, spend some more time in the cut
I'll turn my voice up loud so I can tell you was sup
Rhyme for rhyme you was never ready for 'Bus
Your quotables are anecdotical
Your whole crew softer than tofu
Most of y'all don't even know the "Truth"
If you did then you knew I was a soldier too
Doing what you already sold your souls to do
I'm doing shows and my wrist stays frozen too
But I own my shit who owns you?
I should sign to the Roc'
Battle you in the lobby or worldwide plaza make you resign on the spot
Give me that mic' back Mack Bitch you can't spit
I don't even know why the fuck Jigga passed you that shit
I'll embarrass you with that shit, blast you that quick
Wrap you in plastic and toe-tag you as a Jacker



"Who Stopped Ya?"

"Who Stopped Ya?"

Yo, who stopped ya?
Separate the rappers from the actors
The doctors from the proctobiologists
Can't speak with common sense
You got a dent in the medulla oblongata
And lost some skills, five Percent
Imma rock again
How much you wanna bet
Might throw a little fit
Drown you with a little spit
From the USA to Cairo
Took the high road to Mohenjodaro
Cause I'm a pharaoh
If there was no tomorrow
I'd still be the most sophisticated model of wordological babble
The speech is called double speak
For example if I said I was to bust the heat
Till the sky touch your feet
Open your eyes look at the concrete
My name aint Germaine now you got the wrong beef
It aint Canibus neither you got the wrong leaf
You think Hitler's dead but you got the wrong teeth
Like me rockin on another beat, right now
While you still listenin to this one, blah-dow
Being followed by a black cloud
So imma just keep on rhyming and look at the ground
I'll look up if you pass it around
I'm the best lyricist hands down
Motherfucker just look at your hands now
Who stopped ya? Rap tighter than an anaconda
Only one problem my work com sucks
Syllables rush through the position of the teeth and the tongue
Mouth to mic to speakers till its deep in your drum
Speak with the tongue till sounds like I'm speakin in tongues
When I'm done I'll leave you needing a lung
Don't have to get up
Cause I been up
Doin sit ups and chin ups
And an army chin up, I rip shit up
Punch y'all for pair of fist cuffs with fist clutch
When I'm getting my dick sucked I resuscitate sick sluts
Gettin they clits mixed up
Stick a plug in the butt
OK Bis you been explicit enough
Who stopped ya, who stopped ya?


"Worthlessness Purpose"

"Worthlessness Purpose"

He is the Sea Merchant who eats Sea Urchins and Sea Serpents
He does it to give his obvious 'Worthlessness Purpose'
Deep Sea searches bring his verses back up to the surface
Someone is brought in to interpret
Do not engage in conjectural with the professor
Just nod ya head and say Yes Sir! Here is the next verse
Toxicology analysis, MCs examine Bis but it's too late...
Nothing above ground will escape
The jungle will haunt you, the desert becomes you
Be humble, if it ever takes something from you
No advantage, No standard
Ya Tranquility is being tampered with by Canibus' masterpiece mantra
When albums are requested, they used to be respected
Only the best deserve to be the center of attention
Enter the legend, Hip Hop will never forget him
And Laser Weapons are now being tested
Inside this bubble composed of two poles
I think I can come up with a few flows, bullshit
Says whose knows, just another boy from the Group Home
Who's good at producing a few songs
I wonder how many MCs lives I've touched?
How many lives that I've protected them from?
More powerful public speaker low budget demeanour
Look like the reaper, senior Ripper information retriever
Slick talk or barter away your OES Charter
Not smarter, just thinking harder, it's truly an honour
Plutocracy, Kleptocracy, to be or not to be?
Please talk to me, I'll show you how these rhymes ought to be
There is not much time to decide or take sides
You are standing in the middle of lyrical fratricide
Giant tiger mosquitoes and carrion beetles biting people
The Mist makes it hard to see through
It has always been believed by those even wiser than me
That nobody can describe what I see
Reality hangs in the balance
The "C" of Tranquility is not a body of water it's an Island
A string of islands that connect like strings on a violin
Waking up to a dark horizon
My rap style will always be in it's prime
You rhyme for yourself, I rhyme for mankind!
Wireless or landline? Any time
Grab the mic and do the damn rhyme

Any time. Grab the mic and do the damn rhyme.


"Wreck Room"

"Wreck Room"

[Verse 1 - Crooked I:]
Look, how many beats I gotta put in the casket
Before you understand instrumentals get their ass kicked?
I'm that sick, I'm a backwards cased basket
I'm a basket case, nigga, irate bastard
And I'm strapped, bitch, a ball hog in the hood
So don't talk to me about that ghetto pass shit
This nigga's past it, my clique is massive
And fuck spittin' acid if I haven't written classics
Steady reppin' the West, while Cali rappers say that's played out
You niggas' based out
Type of niggas we leave laid out
Throwin' up a dub, stompin' your face out
That's for the life that you ain't 'bout
You niggas' marks like Zuckerberg and Sanchez
Listenin' to every fuckin' word that a fan says
I think you boys' soft
I think a real fan wanna hear that real shit, if not, turn my voice off
It's Crooked

You are now consumed by the dark side
So welcome to the belly of the beast
All my niggas eat MC's up for lunchtime
And we'll never be ready for the peace
This is for all y'all bitch-ass snitch niggas
That front and always tellin' the police
Ain't no place in this world you can run or hide
To escape the belly of the beast

[Verse 2 - Flawless the MC:]
Call me Spartacus, In this art I'm just a martyr, plus
I hit hard as a car crash with a charter bus
Y'all just anonymous, don't even try to start a fuss
Because I'm large enough to step down, crushin' you all to dust
Flaw's the illest and I put that on my daughters cause
I'm hungry, like the effect I get that marijuana does
In this game, you'll be [?]
So even with Stan Lee fightin' Marvin Hagler, you couldn't marvel us
I'm flippin' off everyone who scoffed at my shit and tock
Cause I'm a time bomb with a tickin' clock, and the shit just stopped
So if I'm pissed or I'm blowin' up like a blistered pop
It's just hip-hop is infested with [?]
So you can go on and kick up rocks
I'll bet it all, you couldn't set it off with fireworks hooked to Vivica Fox
See when I hitch I'll split your knot
Cause I'm fucked up and cold like I eat Dippin' Dots topped with a liquor shot


[Verse 3 - Nino Graye:]
Spit my flows like I'm walkin' around with the Alzheimers
I ain't worried 'bout these small-time rhymers, who?
No imagery and no substance, gimmicky
Young and seein' victories like witnessing Christopher Reeves runnin'
They'll never take number one, these suckers silicone titties
They just look good fakin' and frontin'
They ain't been strugglin', hustlin', pockets with nearly nothin' in 'em
Fuckin' sick and tired, prayin' somethin' was gonna finally give in
Spit 'caine, every 16, raw is on display
They'll stick veins, pick up a CD, put it on and hit play
I'm a think tank, you know what this means, stay out my [?] way
We shot callin', blockin' your entry, nickname Dikembe
'Bout that time, we drawin' the fuckin' line
Bullshit stops here and y'all on the other side
Nino Graye one of the elite, almighty brotherhood
Midwest royalty, just so we all understood


[Verse 4 - Canibus:]
Zuckerberg, I heard you're a sucker for words
Plus you're a perv, the facts just emerged
Sensitive data denial
Get shot on YouTube or go viral, so how did they find you?
Concussion after confession, gold fever, old school westerns
In any group, I'm the loneliest member
Thoroughbred stallion, Jamaican, mountain music
They named him, 'til they cut his legs off and framed him
Step into that digital vortex
The scorned vet judged by generations that ain't even born yet
Read faster than most talk
Write slower than the aardvark walks and squints with the card sharks
A room full of mad professors who study language forensics
Interdependent on phonetic directions
Quick draw, aggressive, really am I on the offensive?
I'm just a Marlboro man from Memphis
Surrounded by firewalls, strong defenses
On Mars with ice cubes and Natasha Henstridge



"Ya Teef Iz Yellow (Skit)"
(feat. Pakman)

"Ya Teef Iz Yellow (Skit)"
(feat. Pakman)


I never thought that it could come down to this
it's a subject that I just can't resist
You got jokes, but this one here is for you
here's a list of things I think you should do
As yellow as some pineapple punch
they got that way because you don't brush
It's too late for that, toothpaste won't be enough
you probably got gingivitis in your gums
How you smell so freely showin' ya teef
if I was you, i'd go and get them shits bleached
You need to start buyin toothbrushes by tha threes
did anybody ever tell ya they look like straight cheese
Mustard yellow, soon they'll be green and brown
you totally disgust tha people your around
I must admit, they nasty as fuck
God forbid somebody drink out your cu


"Yeng Meng"

"Yeng Meng"

[Chorus: Canibus]
Niggaz runnin' around like, "what did he say?"
All day, everyday, "what did he say?"
Everybody want to know, "what did you say?"

[Verse: Canibus]
Yo, I don't want to waste no lyrics talkin' about you
Just let my body die and rot in hell why don't you
You asked the same question, I already told you
I'm a lyricist, I do what I'm supposed to do
You ever wonder what Hip-Hop would have been without me?
I'm six albums deep, somebody is thinkin' about me
Whether it's good or bad, yo, I can't control it
A nigga's opinion belongs to him; I can't own it
I microphone this with my own way of doin' things
All my rhymes really do is provoke you to think
People don't care about your passion when they comin' at you
All they ever see is record sales and dollar value
What the fuck does it matter what I'm rappin' to?
I can rhyme acapella and attract the youth
If you want to compromise, we can do that too
But I ain't never in the mood to drink no wack juice
The bottom line is I need a bigger budget
Advertising is how you program the public
People don't have to understand to love somethin'
As long as they see it enough, they just trust it, that's why I'm like fuck it
I might as well do what I do best
And that's rip a microphone to shreds
Even the best confessed, at some point in they life, they said
That I'm the illest, but now they want you to forget
So I accept the bitter with the sweet, mix it with some heat
Show them how to emcee, and spit it to a beat
I can do it in my sleep, nigga
If I'm awake, how the fuck you gon' compete, nigga? The nerve of these niggaz
I move like my shadow is weightless
Expose myself like a faceless, plastic surgery patient
Transmitting from an undisclosed location
Pirate stations with phantom frequency modulations
My throat-pistol spit ghost-signals
And you never get the antidote from me, 'cause I bit you
Stab you with a jagged crystal, 'cause my energy emit through
Anything metallic, even a pencil
Feel the bush burn, turn your cornrow into a good perm
My flat-feet with no curves squish worms
The bad news is I got a tight flow
The good news is I just switched to Geico
This is Hip-Hop nigga
Listen to the voice go drip-drop nigga
Swimmers in my saliva river drown when I give it to them
The hemispheres of my brain got a river through it; gray-matter fluid
The mic is a spark-plug
When I grab it, I glow, come with that Edelbrock carburetor flow
When I yolk back the choke full-throttle and go for broke
I've become a G.O.A.T. ripper on a positive note
The width of my rap, too thick to fit through the gap
The viscosity of my spit lubricates the track
Touch the VAT-lit screen, illuminate the map
Show me where you at; show me how you plan to get back
My navigation better than yours, and even though you the best
Hip-Hop is my house; you still my guest
You want more, I give you less
You want less, I give you more 'til you swimmin' in it up to your neck
Listen to the words bouncin' off the lungs in my chest
Hittin' you from every angle like porno-sex
Still here 'cause the Lord knows best
Last thing he said to me was, "let them know 'Bis," I'm a let them know this
Nobody contends with Canibus
When it comes to rhymes; everybody pales in comparison (Word)
Nobody compares to Canibus
Hip-Hop is Yeng, Canibus is Yang to balance it

[Chorus: Canibus]
Niggaz runnin' around like, "what did he say?"
All day, everyday, "what did he say?"
Everybody want to know, "what did you say?"


"You Can't Fuck With The Canibus Man"

"You Can't Fuck With The Canibus Man"

Yo, yo, let me explain something so that you understand
You will never be iller than the Canibus man
You could be male, female, black, white
Fuck the details, I rip a nigga with a rhyme till he screams help
Any nigga I told to kneel knelt
You haven't the slighest idea what a real MC is about
You need to be yourself, you can't sound like nobody else
And you can't do all of the beats yourself
You can't do it without the streets help
Niggas on the block that blast the boom box till the speakers melt
That's how I was brought up, big fat elephant balls what
I'm a knucklehead with big walnuts, small frame extra large guts
I'll do anything to a nigga if he pushes me hard enough
I use to rhyme like all day
I mean little nigga spittin till my jaws felt sore with pain
I use to train with myself in the mirror
Like "Mirror mirror on the wall, tell me who's iller"
How you like that? I use to say it just like that
Maybe I should copyright that, I'll be right back
Sorry to leave you hangin
I write things down quick cuz I ain't takin no chances
Thats the difference between you and me
You a wanna-be, and I'm an MC
I'm just in the booth right now
I'm just kickin it with you right now
I'm tellin you the truth right now
You can't fuck with the Canibus man, you can't fuck with the Canibus man

[Chorus: Pacman]
You can't fuck with the Canibus man, you can't fuck with the Canibus man [x2]

Now in this rap field, I got a lot of confirmed kills
I put niggaz through drills to prove if they got true skills
You coulda sold millions, but if you ain't got 100 bars shut the fuck up
At least don't talk to me, cuz I aint hearin you
If you that ill, give me a hundred bars, I'm darin you
I definitely ain't scared of you
I go to war cuz I'm prepared to lose
Just as long as I get to damage you
Take the mic from you, then put a knife in you
That's what I like to do, make you lose a pint or two
If you a lion I'm a tiger too
I could be as nice as you, but if you a snake I'm a viper too
Look you in the eyes and lie to you
Thinkin about all the possible ways to kill you while I smile at you
You like to get fly nigga I'm a pilot too
Don't even try to get deep cuz I'm a diver too
Don't try to fit in my shoes cuz you cant
Nobody can fuck with the Canibus man, understand?

[Chorus x2]

Yo, yo, yo, my mouth is mechanically mechanized
My verbal weapon fires a whole clip of rhymes before you can get off one round
Can-I-Bus will buss ya, apply enough pressure to crush ya, I pulverize mother fuckers
Leave MC's laid out like hurricane debris, 15 Megatons of TNT
The overseas block busta, bustin up blocks like the Tiguska meteorite to hit Russia
Comin from the underground I discovered
A ground underneath the ground before underground bunkers
Dedicate it's blunkers, deeper than the labrith
Conductin excavations of the matrix
Living in uninhabitable places, craters of a desert like oasis with a cydonian faces
As barren as Las Vegas, as barren as the wombs of women who use artificial insemination
As barren as Utah's Salt Lake City basin, as barren as ancient Egypt before irrigation
A five-star chef makin mouth-watering creations with blood stains on my apron
Put the heads of wack MC's in my oven and bake them
Then garlic bread sticks in their eye sockets and taste them
It's not really that odd, when you consider part of the ancient culture loves to eat dogs
Feline cats with their claws, paws and all
Caucasians eat frogs, African-americans eat the hog
Hindus in India will kneel to the floor and worship cows and rats as gods
I raise the odds, spit rhymes towards Mars and beyond to the nearest binary star
I'mma tell you once more my main man, you can't fuck with the Canibus man

[Chorus x4]
You can't fuck with Pacman neither