 MiClub The Curriculum » The lyrics [+ Add +] |
1. _ Poet Laureate
Houston to Earth, watch the Ripper crucify you with verse,
My urethra to ya' uvula quenches ya' thirst,
Put ya' flames out with dry desert dirt, where leopards lurk,
Lock ya' soul down wit' a esoteric weapons search,
Strap a bomb to one of ya' labels |
2. _ Master Thesis
This is the master thesis, underneath the deepness,
Come to MicClub dot net where you can read this,
Run a plot on the map in hyperspatia,
From the Society for Scientific Exploration,
Color is vibration, vibration is sound,
Sound resonates thru the mouth - check it out,
what I say vibrates no less than 9 ways,
South, South-East, West, South-West, East,
North, North-East, North-West,
And black and white images fade to gray sound waves,
Trap my adversaries like a mouse in a maze,
With a bewildering array of lyrical display,
The best of Bis, orbitally rearranged,
Monoatomic elements with adept intelligence,
The highest professorship, my English etiquette,
Compels me to not say it if I can't spell it bitch,
My circularized third eye sees all,
Atlantis was surrounded by four seawalls,
I read one-fourth of the Library of Alexandria,
Before it was burnt to the floor,
I wish I could've learned more,
About the shapes of the sacred geometry they used to draw,
They were new millennium but Euclidian in form,
Ancient in many ways but not nearly as old,
Carved from Egyptian gold molded in Assyria,
With processed beryllium by the quintillion,
They cooked on symmetrical stoves with my logo,
Etched above the hole where they inserted the coal,
And they barbequed birds to the bone,
And they burned incense in a Buckminster Fuller type dome...
I talked to Mr. Fuller over the phone,
And he said he had a contract to rebuild Rome,
He said he didn't wanna' do it alone,
I told' em I was busy writin' poems but I'd think about goin',
The process was slow and the dough was low,
But I took it as the perfect opportunity to grow,
Plus I had never traveled that far from home,
But I heard about the beauty of Cydonian snow,
Neon-green grass,
Statues made from translucent glass,
I'd be crazy to pass,
I like Altarian Jazz, the blue twilight band
That plays tunes from a laser black sax,
It sounds so laid back, it helps me relax,
I bought the album after seeing K-PAX,
Oh how I miss my nautilus,
I was told pharyngoamygdalitis did not exist,
You have a modest case of scaphocephalous,
I'll prescribe some neo-gothic antibiotics,
With words concocted from the lyrical locksmith,
Deadly as 10 droplets of Ricin Toxin,
From every angle the competition gets boxed in,
As Dr. "C" indoctrinates his doctrine,
Translate the English alphabet to the omega text,
life is now but death is next,
Post bond out on bail from the belly of hell,
Communicate thru diatonic and pentatonic scales,
These darkside tales might affect sales,
I'll set sail hunt down erect sperm whales,
Use the aphrodisiac to get a female called ginger tie her up and drink her gingerale,
Grand Marnier for me - scotch on the rocks for you,
Your vocab is smaller than a cockatoos,
In the studio with James Lipton reminiscing
About the script that was written before the beginning,
All of a sudden the boos turn to applause,
My jaws stronger than a Kenenday Macaw |
3. _ Liberal Arts feat. Jedi Mind Tricks
[Voice-Over]
Once more, it has been done
That in order to save it
You would have to raise the specter again
I am going to tell them the truth
About their ministry of justice
But if we didn't though
It would surely be cause for war!
[Canibus]
Ok its time to get started..
Don't want to but the forces forced me
When it can't category allegory
They translated it for me
U-M-L-O-U-T: Umlaut
That's the reason I bend vowels when I spew from the mouth
Spit threw and out the very grotesque few are best
Burn through vests
Since the university of Budapest
Sitting in a room with a windowless view
Concentrating; looking at you
Freeze frame frozen at the very moment
The wormhole opens
You know Canibus has spoken
The circumference of a third eye so vibrant
To me, Ezekiel's Wheel was just a spare tire
My epithelial genetic fiber was forged in the protoplasmic fires in a black geyser
The explosion can described as a white Iris
When the absolute began, I don't know where I was
I musta just been a piece of micro dust
That's why I the fuck love mics so much
My micro, macro robotic rap flow
The Magna Carta of the entire rap world
Mayflower 2002 Phase 1
Adapt to the press of gravity is laid on my lungs
The theory of communication called cannons
Dissertation with a makeover in camouflage makeup
Light waves bend to the wake of bust
Mics buckle with white knuckles, metacarpals crush
Acid reflux all over your face, you fuck
Grab heart with bare hands,
Squeeze and spray blood
You iller than me? Gimme a call:
W-W-W-N-A-M-I-org
Dear boss,
You mind if I share my thoughts?
Psychotherapy is expensive, can you share my costs?
In a cushioned room with leather doors
Handwriting experts take a look at the letters I draw
Excessive graftedness, there's no space between words
Excessive cross-outs: it must be my nerves
Rhymes that vaporize dis-ablize and destabilize
Pray to God, say Goodbye
Six minutes Vinnie Paz you're on
Lyrically this is the liberty of Liberal Arts
[Chorus]
Canibus: Consume Creatine and Create
cAnibus: Anemometers analyze air intake
caNibus: The H.N.I.C that narrates
canIbus: Innate intelligent Interface
caniBus: Biogenetetic Behemoth obliterate
canibUs: Youth on fire, You both bleed
canibuS: Micnificentlly sound Mc
Liberal Arts with JMT
[Vinnie Paz, AKA Ikon the Verbal Hologram]
I'm the god of war,
the resurrector of the horror-core
The carnivore, destroying you wasn't hard at all
I started raw, so the haters could see what could happen
I was Allah while the pagans were speaking in Latin
I'm the origin of science and math
I'm the origin of everything you trying to grasp
Been dying to ask if Jedi Mind is the real
Well I'll let you inside my mind and you decide how it feel
I'm dying to kill
And bring to you apocalypse
I start a lot beef with lots of guns and lots of clips
Fuck the head, I'm aimin right for your esophagus
Hang you from a hook then drink the blood your body drips
I got the power of the lead a fucking shotty spits
And leave you weaker than the mafia that's Gotti-less
With Canibus: get deep like psychoanalysts
Vinne Paz the fucking Hand-to-Fist-Philanthropist
What? Its fucking Vinnie Paz daddy
Yeah Jedi Mind baby
(For the people of the world)
Canibus baby
Let it now be noted
Mic Club
What's the fucking deal?
That here in our decision
This is what we stand for
Justice, Truth and the value of a single human being
[Chorus]
[Canibus]
Liberal Arts
Mic Club the Curriculum
Can-I-bus hittin 'em
Rippin 'em
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4. _ C Section
[Chorus]
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
[Canibus]
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] - repeat 2X
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5. _ Dr. C Phd
Yo, I plan to build a myself a facility before I'm 40
a molecular archceogenetic laboratory
that can analyze complex poetry data for me
even if it was recorded poorly, how extraordinary
I frog leap over awful beats
then I separate rappers by the carbon-14s
to determine the age of anything ever made
regardless of how the outside surface has changed
I put a curse on your name, bombard your brain
with gamma x-rays till you burst into flames
with the scientifically quantifiable megalomaniacal
viable style, it's like trying to ride a bull
let's have a dictionary duel after school
check into me a nice Cedar Sinai room
so I can get sick as the flu, spittin the truth
if you ain't got this album, you missing the proof
prepare for your doom my nuclear rocket plumes
glow against the pale background of the moon
toxic fumes spoil complete stocks of fruits, and foods
burning your flammable boxes and booms
got in the groove even though I'm not in the mood
motherfucker you didn't win 'cause I can't lose
give the fans the chance to choose, fuck you
who's the illest, who's it really up to
rapping fire, you better run for the pacifier
tie you up and drown you in the saliva quagmire
till your oxygen expires and your lungs dry up
'cause you said Bis ain't dope, you a damn liar
disaster for hire over beats by pious
flow like the Tigris, Euphrates, with the Eye of the Tiger
in my iris, Canibus is a fighter
motherfucker, my greatgrandfather was Irish
let's roll the dices, 'll break you like young Tyson
give me the mic man, I don't need no hype man
put a thousand on me, put one on him
i tear off his limbs, throw him in, and tell him to swim
yo I soak that shit and coat that shit in soy sauce
tell the FCC boss, turn that noise off
call Detroit's Mafia Boss
tell him yo, I got a job for you, I want you to bust his balls
Drop him off by Niagra Falls
write my name on a banana and put the banana between his jaws
nobody disrespects lyrical law
I'm the best there ever is and the best ever was
training like a grunt face down in the mud
with blood, sweat, and tears, sucking it up
yo, you wonder where I am right now
I'm probably somewhere on the microphone fucking it up
dead or alive, Canibus will live through the rhyme
to be the illest on the mic is a mission of mine
spittin' divine, you can't get it twisted this time
vocal with a mirror to make sure my lips are aligned
Dr C, PHD graduated from UMG
bright as the LCD display on a new MP
prototype of a true MC
with 3d topography maps you can't see
Butcher on Broad Street, wrapping CDs
in butcher paper, doing artwork with Sharpies
if you don't like the quality, then talk to me
what the fuck you on the website for you creep?
punching the keys, remember that sound
that's exactly what it sounds like when i'm punching your teeth
kick a rap, bitch, if you've got the gumption to speak
stand next to me, i might put a lump in your meat
diss you and your man, double the beef
to tell you the truth, I thought your rebuttal was weak
round the outside, blah, blah, etcetra, etcetra
the body of my literature is bigger than South America
nigga look, this is all I gots to say
suck my P-H-D-I-C-K
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6. _ Behind Enemy Rhymes
When the curriculum storms, modern rap history is reborn on CD code in the form of a poem,
Anyone that |
7. _ Cenior Studies 02
[Canibus]
Yo the artists come and go, so does the show
So does the dough, nothin lasts forever you know
It's all about the experience and what you take from it
What you learn in the process, what you make of it
Number two in the world at the top of the summit, I loved it
Shoulda packed a parachute for the plummet
Now I'm opening these clips crawlin through mud pits
With guns and hundreds of clips on Uncle Sam's budget
Hundred rifles itself, handcuff Bert Reynolds
To Jim Brown and escape with Raquel Welsh
Isn't my queen lovely? feed her rum of rays
And ice cream, shower her with diamond rings and money
23 hours a day I study
Dreamin about beautiful women I hate you gay teletubies
Dreams keep my alive you can't take em from me
The battlefield is bloody, mean, and ugly
My andrenaline rushes when the enemy rush me
Tryin to bust me cuz I swore I'd defend my country
If I could choose between being lucky and having money
Nothing negative could ever touch me
What must be is ultimately not up to me
But I sacrifice my life for yours if you trust me
Pin my medals upon my chest
So I could left-right-left in a certain death
God's speed and God bless
In the end I hope God is impressed if I'm put to rest
I did what I came to do, no time left
Say my name out the blue cuz I rhyme it the best
Mic club dot net see me live in the flesh
You could come and download every rhyme that I spit
You could pay homage to Rip for one dollar a clip
None of those rhymes is on the album bitch
It's a storage facility where I keep my shit
For the students in the class that wanna peep my shit
Break a bootlegger leg if he leak my shit
You don't wanna sign him bitch then eat my shit
Drink my piss, you could never compete like this
I'ma give you an example how deep I get
Technology not available for purchase
My brains collects, stores, and converts million bar verses
At a stand-off distance of a thousand feet
I illuminate the target and pound em to sleep
To within one micro-inch if you out in the street
I could close my ears and still move my mouth to the beat
Dial-up to your network and make your files delete
Count to three, listen to you browse a beat
Too late, foot already stepped in the feces
Dr. Norton's too sick to help your PCs
Virtually I make your virtual memory freeze
With a weapon of mass destruction double you MD's
I'm a TMC trouble to MCs
Destroy colonies with UCAVs
I send in no less than twenty 18s
Wipe you out before I even get to the beach
With my Trans-atmospheric space based mirrors
Can you write that out without typographical error?
Dumb fucks I'm the best ever whatever
Divide 18 by 6 you get the third letter
From the lowest earth orbit up to the heavens
I bomb y'all wit lyrics of flesh
shredders
and petters forever
As a spitter I'm still tougher than leather
I had to go underground to get over the pressure
Battle rap from the Renaissance multi-megawatt
Bury you beneath the bedrock on the bed of rocks
I could never get bored
I write about Hugsley vs Wibble Force, fuck writin killer chorus
Copenhaven curriculum of metaphors
Everything from Bob Marley to Tenor Saul
The System of A Down song number 14
I see aerials in the sky when I dream
The end is near I wish it would hurry up
I feel nano-bacteria burning me up
Before I explain in detail
You should examine the Mahr's mineral samples under my nails
Sometimes I wonder who's listening
The auditory Pavlovian conditioning's so sickening
My adenine, guanine, cytosine,
And thymine is really what makes my rhyme supreme
Soon as I hear the beat, bada-bing
You gotta think: a hundred bars...damn, that's a lotta ink
Eventually all of my albums'll be out of print
There'll be a clone for every style I invent
For every line I rhyme intense
For all the time I spent, every word I spit since 96
If you could input at a hundred
I could output way above it, if we in public, I double it
Put this on your study list and go study, bitch
Basically quoting Hammer you "can't touch this"
I'm too assertive and alert for what its worth
My best piece of work is still yearning to be birthed
Class Dismissed
Cenoir Studies from Canibus
[Outro]
There is something mystical, but it's not RARE
and nobody should treat it as though this is something special
that writer's do... anybody--anybody born physically able in the brain
can sit down and begin to write something and discover
that there are depths in her soul or his soul that are untapped
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