Beasts From The East(Album Version (Edited))

歌詞

[Weatherman] The forecast: showers heavy at times with occasional thunderstorms today, and a high of 89 degrees. Partial clearing tonight with a low of 74. (Word up. The cop said to me, "Yo kid! Damn!") [Mr. Cheeks] Yo, we come through like Bulls, see niggas takin two pulls and pass Nigga, watch your back once you talk out your ass I pack a .380 in my stash for protection Family deranged, the world is acting crazed I never thought I'd make it, it was hectic when I scrambled On point like a knife I'm takin life as a gamble Livin in the rotten apple, ayo where every core is rotten All my niggas rest in peace you see you gone but not forgotten Now my main wifey, dead as shady chicks Official Lost Boy since the year of '86 And fuck these crooked niggas I could kill 'em with the passion At times I feel like slashing in Jamaica Queens fashion You think, you can fuck around, but kid you just thinking It's over when I'm sober, imagine when I'm drinking Without blinking man, I'll tear your crew like pages I'll rip you from the backyards, puff chants in stages [A+] A+ the lyrically superb one Spittin rhymes off the top of the tongue to burn ya ear drum Rotten shit, make the opposite team call a time out Knockin niggas three time my size out The crowd loves me, so when I ain't around they ask for me I buckle up and catch wreck like a crash dummy For the fast money, I get up in that ass money The fact you tryin' to test me kinda bugs me I leave crews fed up, like handicap niggas tryna get up Emcees get wet up with lyrical gun pellets I blow up the spot when it's time to rock I speak out my voice box'll peak out at a hundred watts Who wanna cipha? I get dumb Word to my mother, the Father, the Holy Ghost and Rev. Run When it's all said and done, I end the service Get cocked in the type of verses average emcees worship [Redman (Canibus)] Yo yo yo, yo big dog turn the track up (Fuck how you feel, fuck with the lyrical skills and get peeled) Yo fake emcees step to the rear Real emcees bring this shit up north (Fuck how you feel, fuck with the lyrical skills and get..) My style is Milk of Magnesia, clutch defies speeding bus The more the merrier, secure the area My life familiar, is ultimate superior We don't jack cars, we jack for aircraft carriers I bounce like trampolines, when I be blowing the fiends to pieces Hem 'em like sewing machines and Jesus When the shadows of the barrel pointing out my boy Camaro I get punished like pharaoh for splittin' You better off singing Christmas carols for Christmas because I'm on point like bow and arrow, equipment The president of chicken head conventions I give you a deluxe Ku Klux lynchin' I got a headache from the, stress success not wearing a vest 5-11 for being dirty, quartz at 9:30 Yo, Mr.Cheeks, I made this bitch call police She tried swallowing the nine piece but got a warranty on false teeth I return like Makaveli on 18 inch Pirellis Assault and battery like my palms is Eveready Sharp as machetes Matter of fact I slap from cognac and keep the beef heavy [Canibus] The Canibus brings the sickest drama Fierce enough to pierce the thickest armor I smack bitches for tryin to suck dick through a condom Playing with the mic is something I won't do My only concern when I approach you, is to roast you I smoke you and whoever you standing close to and make every man in your crew deny that he knows you Defeating, niggas like Segal Steven Putting emcees in, positions to prevent 'em from breathing I'll make you question any and everything you've ever believed in by peeping your deepest secrets like psychic readers What's the matter with y'all, I splatter y'all against the motherfucking wall with these raw lyrics I catapult None of y'all got the balls big enough to battle I go On & On like Erykah Badu A hundred times nicer than the best there's Twice as African as KRS is, who wanna test this? Fuck y'all you don't impress me and no one can test me A emcee so ill, I got AIDS scared to catch me All that shit you popping'll stop, when I put you in a headlock and apply pressure 'til I crush your motherfucking noggin I grab mics and push niggas to the left so fast they hearts end up on the right sides of your chests My hypothesis, is that nobody can see this lyrical genius, I got it sewn like a seamstress But if you want to battle, I'm down If you got nine lives, I'll take eight of them off your hands right now Step up and get your neck cut from ear to ear If you survive, then you can cover your scar with a beard I'm the illest from Queens to the New Jerusalem Briddicks Anyone who ain't feeling my shidick can suck my didick You need to quit it, if you ain't spitting more than 50 bars per minute cause you ain't in lyrical fitness Kicking boring raps with metaphors that's wack All of y'all motherfuckers need NordicTrack to get ya weight up, fucking with Canibus you get ate up Beat down and sprayed up, just for bringing my name up Been rocking longer than niggas twice my age Back in the days before Bob Marley was rocking a fade Before Honest Abe signed the paper that freed slaves Before Neanderthals was drawing on walls in caves I existed, in the Garden of Eden and getting lifted Sticking dick to Eve before she was Adam's mistress Before Christ created Christmas, I been in lyrical fitness The Canibus is spitting 'til he's spitless 50 bars of total sickness, you won't forget this I'm putting every wack emcee alive on my shit list Verbally vicious, telekinetically gifted Took you a minute, to exhibit that I'm sick wit it Now you tell me who you think is damaging shit Going once, going twice, sold! to that nigga named Canibus Me and Mr.Cheeks, A+, and Funk Doctor hopping out the Huey helicopter to suey chop ya Group Home and Def Squad 9-7 nigga