About That Time

Lyrics

[Intro: Canibus] It's about that time, you know me, I'm about that rhyme Canibus and Termanology, two of hip-hop's top, Gs Watch, B [Verse 1: Canibus] Canibus lyrically fit, Termanology spit A million bars, first 16 start like this A rack of bombs lay stacked on the floor above the doors of the bomb bay I can drop bombs all day Any city, all states, any place, any muzzles, they all ate My metaphors break jaws out of place 30 shots change courses, lock, reload What up PO? I throw bullets the size of burritos Prototype speedboats built by Lockheed on the East Coast Drag you by the feet with 30 feet of rope Gotta pay dues, dude, put you on YouTube One million views of that moment you lose Against the freckle-faced Elephant Man with cold, clammy, gelatin hands Research and develop the plan Because now everybody hollering Hip-hop ain't bringing the dollars in, radio ain't got no more tolerance Objection sustained, y'all niggas can't fuck with Germaine You can't verify the shit that he claim Just a man in the Matrix, I stand by my statements Every time I run a program they erase it! The plot unfolds, you hear the army snare drum roll The beat tolls 'cause you know I've got soul (Yo!) I rap alone strap a microphone 'round my chest like a saxophone Fully automated battle phones Canibus and Termanology, white hot speech Black box beats, you listening to hip-hop's chief Termanology, what's the prophecy Show them how you got the right to rock with me, boy, you better fry that beat [Verse 2: Terminology] Yo, we the last of a dying breed The ones that got your hearts racing like a can of speed The ones that bodied anybody that was on the scene The one's that never sold out like Condoleez' on their own peeps The big knife packing, windpipe slashing Big pipe blasting, key mine stash in my designer jeans The truth is this for you stupid pricks Never estimate my ruthlessness or celebrate a crucifix Every rhyme you write is like you moving bricks I sold weight too but I ain't on that stupid shit I write intelligent, relevant, elegant, heaven sent rhetoric These rap dudes ain't even competitive Should I let 'em live, nah fuck that Yo, Bus I've been looking for someone I can bust at Dude trust that, ain't another rapper alive that can touch that After I crush that Fuck all the simple shit, I got this shit locked like Middleton Plus I keep swinging like Wimbledon You fake motherfuckers is weak and ignorant I speak deliberately at you before the Ruger® clap you Let the bullets catch you, why would I shake your hand We got beef like Red Sox and Yankee fans Before I shave your man and cut back his face I levitate my soul up to the pearly gates Ask God if I'm really getting in 'fore I kill again Should I just pray for my sins No convertible, no face in the wind Just some basements of gin and some goons that will murder you You wanna act macho, I got a Glock so big It will blow your wig out your tie ho You lost souls only worry about gun though You get your fucking face split like a Rock show It's nonstop, yo, the turmoil I'm in I love to see the slugs boil your skin This ain't no Boyz II Men, none of that soft shit Even strong whole caps know I've got a poison pen They say the boys a gem, I'm a diamond in the rough Groupie bitches steady climbing in the trunk Your weak scriptures sound a little rough Treat rappers like Hitler, how I line them up After that you can find them in the trunk Ten pussycats bleeding like that time of the month Metaphorically ain't nobody as raw as me But more importantly I would just destroy your beat No snapping, no popping, no dancing Just some Hannibal Lec and Charles Manson The question: Can-I-Bus? Well here's the answer I body any rapper you know with no handgun I'm so handsome but I got a devilish grin Original man with devilish skin I put the blade to your face, put a cuff on your chin You feel you destined to win then step in the ring But, you know you got a better chance Seeing Canibus and Wyclef connecting again I cut the net of the rim and hold the trophy up You wanna battle both of us man you must be smoking dust [Outro: Termanology] Canibus, Termanology Murder MoSS on the track