[{"id":14572257,"name":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","trackName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":211.3567349,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"-- Synced by NoMan --\nMy offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\nKnock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\nIn bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\nWeavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\nSo in the ring, you cannot win\nThe top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\nWith the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\nKnock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\nThe beautiful blend of power and strength\nFrom the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\nI verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\nPut a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\nWho can spit the words quicker than the average man?\nWho can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\nAnd mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\nThe Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\nYo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\nBack out the 9, commit a homicide for it\nIf I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\nI'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\nYou mad at the last album, I apologize for it\nYo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\nBut this time for '99 I got 5 on it\nYou should double up and put a dime on it\nMatter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\nI'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\nAbout ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\nCipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\nLook out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\nI'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\nYo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\nOf a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\nI flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\nI just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n‘Cause they sounded like idiots\nThey went from silver to gold to platinum\nAfter the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\nThey so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\nY'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\nBefore Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\nAnd a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\nLord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\nTook this rap shit to new heights\nBefore the Wright brothers took flight\nBefore dog fightin' and aerial strikes\nBefore MC's picked up pens and started to write\nBefore promotional marketin' and posterlights\nThe Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\nPunch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\nAsk Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\nThe Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] -- Synced by NoMan --\n[00:24.70] My offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n[00:27.46] Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n[00:29.87] In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n[00:32.46] Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n[00:34.86] So in the ring, you cannot win\n[00:36.62] The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n[00:39.75] With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n[00:41.91] Knock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\n[00:44.42] The beautiful blend of power and strength\n[00:46.22] From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n[00:49.14] I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n[00:51.78] Put a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n[00:54.27] Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n[00:56.59] Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\n[00:58.98] And mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\n[01:01.46] The Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n\n[01:03.99] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[01:06.75] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[01:09.07] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[01:11.55] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[01:13.75] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[01:16.79] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[01:18.91] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[01:21.35] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n[01:23.58] Yo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\n[01:26.39] Back out the 9, commit a homicide for it\n[01:28.83] If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n[01:31.14] I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n[01:33.67] You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n[01:35.98] Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n[01:38.47] But this time for '99 I got 5 on it\n[01:40.79] You should double up and put a dime on it\n[01:42.63] Matter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\n[01:45.71] I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\n[01:48.14] About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n[01:51.23] Cipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n[01:52.98] Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n[01:55.47] 12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\n[01:57.94] I'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n[02:00.42] ‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n\n[02:02.78] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[02:06.07] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[02:07.91] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[02:10.23] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[02:12.56] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[02:15.83] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[02:17.67] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[02:20.07] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n[02:22.39] Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n[02:25.10] Of a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\n[02:27.28] I flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\n[02:30.00] I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n[02:32.27] ‘Cause they sounded like idiots\n[02:33.75] They went from silver to gold to platinum\n[02:35.91] After the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\n[02:38.54] They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\n[02:42.04] Y'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n[02:44.46] Before Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\n[02:46.71] And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n[02:49.14] Lord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\n[02:51.63] Took this rap shit to new heights\n[02:53.30] Before the Wright brothers took flight\n[02:54.67] Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n[02:56.55] Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n[02:58.94] Before promotional marketin' and posterlights\n[03:01.40] The Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n[03:04.23] Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\n[03:07.48] Ask Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\n[03:10.00] The Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n\n[03:11.71] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[03:14.71] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[03:16.50] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[03:18.87] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[03:21.19] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[03:24.38] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[03:26.27] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[03:28.75] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[03:31.38] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 211357\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: -- Synced by NoMan --\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 24700\n- text: My offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n  start_ms: 24700\n  end_ms: 27460\n- text: Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n  start_ms: 27460\n  end_ms: 29870\n- text: In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n  start_ms: 29870\n  end_ms: 32460\n- text: Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n  start_ms: 32460\n  end_ms: 34860\n- text: So in the ring, you cannot win\n  start_ms: 34860\n  end_ms: 36620\n- text: The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n  start_ms: 36620\n  end_ms: 39750\n- text: With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n  start_ms: 39750\n  end_ms: 41910\n- text: Knock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\n  start_ms: 41910\n  end_ms: 44420\n- text: The beautiful blend of power and strength\n  start_ms: 44420\n  end_ms: 46220\n- text: From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n  start_ms: 46220\n  end_ms: 49140\n- text: I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n  start_ms: 49140\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Put a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 54270\n- text: Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n  start_ms: 54270\n  end_ms: 56590\n- text: Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\n  start_ms: 56590\n  end_ms: 58980\n- text: And mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\n  start_ms: 58980\n  end_ms: 61460\n- text: The Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n  start_ms: 61460\n  end_ms: 63990\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 63990\n  end_ms: 66750\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 66750\n  end_ms: 69070\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 69070\n  end_ms: 71550\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 71550\n  end_ms: 73750\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 73750\n  end_ms: 76790\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 76790\n  end_ms: 78910\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 78910\n  end_ms: 81350\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 81350\n  end_ms: 83580\n- text: Yo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\n  start_ms: 83580\n  end_ms: 86390\n- text: Back out the 9, commit a homicide for it\n  start_ms: 86390\n  end_ms: 88830\n- text: If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n  start_ms: 88830\n  end_ms: 91140\n- text: I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n  start_ms: 91140\n  end_ms: 93670\n- text: You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n  start_ms: 93670\n  end_ms: 95980\n- text: Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n  start_ms: 95980\n  end_ms: 98470\n- text: But this time for '99 I got 5 on it\n  start_ms: 98470\n  end_ms: 100790\n- text: You should double up and put a dime on it\n  start_ms: 100790\n  end_ms: 102630\n- text: Matter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\n  start_ms: 102630\n  end_ms: 105710\n- text: I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\n  start_ms: 105710\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 111230\n- text: Cipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n  start_ms: 111230\n  end_ms: 112980\n- text: Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n  start_ms: 112980\n  end_ms: 115470\n- text: 12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\n  start_ms: 115470\n  end_ms: 117940\n- text: I'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n  start_ms: 117940\n  end_ms: 120420\n- text: ‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n  start_ms: 120420\n  end_ms: 122780\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 122780\n  end_ms: 126070\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 126070\n  end_ms: 127910\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 127910\n  end_ms: 130230\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 130230\n  end_ms: 132560\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 132560\n  end_ms: 135830\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 135830\n  end_ms: 137670\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 137670\n  end_ms: 140070\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 140070\n  end_ms: 142390\n- text: Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n  start_ms: 142390\n  end_ms: 145100\n- text: Of a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\n  start_ms: 145100\n  end_ms: 147280\n- text: I flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\n  start_ms: 147280\n  end_ms: 150000\n- text: I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n  start_ms: 150000\n  end_ms: 152270\n- text: ‘Cause they sounded like idiots\n  start_ms: 152270\n  end_ms: 153750\n- text: They went from silver to gold to platinum\n  start_ms: 153750\n  end_ms: 155910\n- text: After the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\n  start_ms: 155910\n  end_ms: 158540\n- text: They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\n  start_ms: 158540\n  end_ms: 162040\n- text: Y'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n  start_ms: 162040\n  end_ms: 164460\n- text: Before Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\n  start_ms: 164460\n  end_ms: 166710\n- text: And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n  start_ms: 166710\n  end_ms: 169140\n- text: Lord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\n  start_ms: 169140\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: Took this rap shit to new heights\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 173300\n- text: Before the Wright brothers took flight\n  start_ms: 173300\n  end_ms: 174670\n- text: Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n  start_ms: 174670\n  end_ms: 176550\n- text: Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n  start_ms: 176550\n  end_ms: 178940\n- text: Before promotional marketin' and posterlights\n  start_ms: 178940\n  end_ms: 181400\n- text: The Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n  start_ms: 181400\n  end_ms: 184230\n- text: Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\n  start_ms: 184230\n  end_ms: 187480\n- text: Ask Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\n  start_ms: 187480\n  end_ms: 190000\n- text: The Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n  start_ms: 190000\n  end_ms: 191710\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 191710\n  end_ms: 194710\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 194710\n  end_ms: 196500\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 196500\n  end_ms: 198870\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 198870\n  end_ms: 201190\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 201190\n  end_ms: 204380\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 204380\n  end_ms: 206270\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 206270\n  end_ms: 208750\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 208750\n  end_ms: 211380\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 211380\nplain: |\n  -- Synced by NoMan --\n  My offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n  Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n  In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n  Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n  So in the ring, you cannot win\n  The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n  With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n  Knock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\n  The beautiful blend of power and strength\n  From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n  I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n  Put a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n  Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n  Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\n  And mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\n  The Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n  Yo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\n  Back out the 9, commit a homicide for it\n  If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n  I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n  You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n  Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n  But this time for '99 I got 5 on it\n  You should double up and put a dime on it\n  Matter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\n  I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\n  About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n  Cipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n  Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n  12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\n  I'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n  ‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n  Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n  Of a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\n  I flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\n  I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n  ‘Cause they sounded like idiots\n  They went from silver to gold to platinum\n  After the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\n  They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\n  Y'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n  Before Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\n  And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n  Lord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\n  Took this rap shit to new heights\n  Before the Wright brothers took flight\n  Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n  Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n  Before promotional marketin' and posterlights\n  The Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n  Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\n  Ask Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\n  The Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n"},{"id":25569062,"name":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","trackName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":5.320688,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"-- Synced by NoMan --\nMy offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\nKnock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\nIn bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\nWeavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\nSo in the ring, you cannot win\nThe top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\nWith the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\nKnock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\nThe beautiful blend of power and strength\nFrom the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\nI verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\nPut a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\nWho can spit the words quicker than the average man?\nWho can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\nAnd mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\nThe Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\nYo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\nBack out the 9, commit a homicide for it\nIf I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\nI'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\nYou mad at the last album, I apologize for it\nYo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\nBut this time for '99 I got 5 on it\nYou should double up and put a dime on it\nMatter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\nI'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\nAbout ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\nCipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\nLook out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\nI'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\nYo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\nOf a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\nI flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\nI just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n‘Cause they sounded like idiots\nThey went from silver to gold to platinum\nAfter the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\nThey so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\nY'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\nBefore Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\nAnd a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\nLord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\nTook this rap shit to new heights\nBefore the Wright brothers took flight\nBefore dog fightin' and aerial strikes\nBefore MC's picked up pens and started to write\nBefore promotional marketin' and posterlights\nThe Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\nPunch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\nAsk Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\nThe Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] -- Synced by NoMan --\n[00:24.70] My offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n[00:27.46] Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n[00:29.87] In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n[00:32.46] Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n[00:34.86] So in the ring, you cannot win\n[00:36.62] The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n[00:39.75] With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n[00:41.91] Knock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\n[00:44.42] The beautiful blend of power and strength\n[00:46.22] From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n[00:49.14] I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n[00:51.78] Put a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n[00:54.27] Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n[00:56.59] Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\n[00:58.98] And mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\n[01:01.46] The Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n\n[01:03.99] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[01:06.75] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[01:09.07] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[01:11.55] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[01:13.75] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[01:16.79] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[01:18.91] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[01:21.35] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n[01:23.58] Yo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\n[01:26.39] Back out the 9, commit a homicide for it\n[01:28.83] If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n[01:31.14] I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n[01:33.67] You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n[01:35.98] Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n[01:38.47] But this time for '99 I got 5 on it\n[01:40.79] You should double up and put a dime on it\n[01:42.63] Matter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\n[01:45.71] I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\n[01:48.14] About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n[01:51.23] Cipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n[01:52.98] Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n[01:55.47] 12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\n[01:57.94] I'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n[02:00.42] ‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n\n[02:02.78] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[02:06.07] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[02:07.91] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[02:10.23] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[02:12.56] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[02:15.83] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[02:17.67] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[02:20.07] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n[02:22.39] Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n[02:25.10] Of a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\n[02:27.28] I flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\n[02:30.00] I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n[02:32.27] ‘Cause they sounded like idiots\n[02:33.75] They went from silver to gold to platinum\n[02:35.91] After the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\n[02:38.54] They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\n[02:42.04] Y'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n[02:44.46] Before Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\n[02:46.71] And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n[02:49.14] Lord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\n[02:51.63] Took this rap shit to new heights\n[02:53.30] Before the Wright brothers took flight\n[02:54.67] Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n[02:56.55] Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n[02:58.94] Before promotional marketin' and posterlights\n[03:01.40] The Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n[03:04.23] Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\n[03:07.48] Ask Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\n[03:10.00] The Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n\n[03:11.71] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[03:14.71] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[03:16.50] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[03:18.87] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[03:21.19] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[03:24.38] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[03:26.27] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[03:28.75] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[03:31.38] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 5321\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: -- Synced by NoMan --\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 24700\n- text: My offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n  start_ms: 24700\n  end_ms: 27460\n- text: Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n  start_ms: 27460\n  end_ms: 29870\n- text: In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n  start_ms: 29870\n  end_ms: 32460\n- text: Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n  start_ms: 32460\n  end_ms: 34860\n- text: So in the ring, you cannot win\n  start_ms: 34860\n  end_ms: 36620\n- text: The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n  start_ms: 36620\n  end_ms: 39750\n- text: With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n  start_ms: 39750\n  end_ms: 41910\n- text: Knock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\n  start_ms: 41910\n  end_ms: 44420\n- text: The beautiful blend of power and strength\n  start_ms: 44420\n  end_ms: 46220\n- text: From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n  start_ms: 46220\n  end_ms: 49140\n- text: I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n  start_ms: 49140\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Put a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 54270\n- text: Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n  start_ms: 54270\n  end_ms: 56590\n- text: Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\n  start_ms: 56590\n  end_ms: 58980\n- text: And mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\n  start_ms: 58980\n  end_ms: 61460\n- text: The Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n  start_ms: 61460\n  end_ms: 63990\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 63990\n  end_ms: 66750\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 66750\n  end_ms: 69070\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 69070\n  end_ms: 71550\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 71550\n  end_ms: 73750\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 73750\n  end_ms: 76790\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 76790\n  end_ms: 78910\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 78910\n  end_ms: 81350\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 81350\n  end_ms: 83580\n- text: Yo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\n  start_ms: 83580\n  end_ms: 86390\n- text: Back out the 9, commit a homicide for it\n  start_ms: 86390\n  end_ms: 88830\n- text: If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n  start_ms: 88830\n  end_ms: 91140\n- text: I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n  start_ms: 91140\n  end_ms: 93670\n- text: You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n  start_ms: 93670\n  end_ms: 95980\n- text: Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n  start_ms: 95980\n  end_ms: 98470\n- text: But this time for '99 I got 5 on it\n  start_ms: 98470\n  end_ms: 100790\n- text: You should double up and put a dime on it\n  start_ms: 100790\n  end_ms: 102630\n- text: Matter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\n  start_ms: 102630\n  end_ms: 105710\n- text: I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\n  start_ms: 105710\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 111230\n- text: Cipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n  start_ms: 111230\n  end_ms: 112980\n- text: Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n  start_ms: 112980\n  end_ms: 115470\n- text: 12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\n  start_ms: 115470\n  end_ms: 117940\n- text: I'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n  start_ms: 117940\n  end_ms: 120420\n- text: ‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n  start_ms: 120420\n  end_ms: 122780\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 122780\n  end_ms: 126070\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 126070\n  end_ms: 127910\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 127910\n  end_ms: 130230\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 130230\n  end_ms: 132560\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 132560\n  end_ms: 135830\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 135830\n  end_ms: 137670\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 137670\n  end_ms: 140070\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 140070\n  end_ms: 142390\n- text: Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n  start_ms: 142390\n  end_ms: 145100\n- text: Of a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\n  start_ms: 145100\n  end_ms: 147280\n- text: I flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\n  start_ms: 147280\n  end_ms: 150000\n- text: I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n  start_ms: 150000\n  end_ms: 152270\n- text: ‘Cause they sounded like idiots\n  start_ms: 152270\n  end_ms: 153750\n- text: They went from silver to gold to platinum\n  start_ms: 153750\n  end_ms: 155910\n- text: After the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\n  start_ms: 155910\n  end_ms: 158540\n- text: They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\n  start_ms: 158540\n  end_ms: 162040\n- text: Y'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n  start_ms: 162040\n  end_ms: 164460\n- text: Before Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\n  start_ms: 164460\n  end_ms: 166710\n- text: And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n  start_ms: 166710\n  end_ms: 169140\n- text: Lord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\n  start_ms: 169140\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: Took this rap shit to new heights\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 173300\n- text: Before the Wright brothers took flight\n  start_ms: 173300\n  end_ms: 174670\n- text: Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n  start_ms: 174670\n  end_ms: 176550\n- text: Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n  start_ms: 176550\n  end_ms: 178940\n- text: Before promotional marketin' and posterlights\n  start_ms: 178940\n  end_ms: 181400\n- text: The Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n  start_ms: 181400\n  end_ms: 184230\n- text: Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\n  start_ms: 184230\n  end_ms: 187480\n- text: Ask Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\n  start_ms: 187480\n  end_ms: 190000\n- text: The Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n  start_ms: 190000\n  end_ms: 191710\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 191710\n  end_ms: 194710\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 194710\n  end_ms: 196500\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 196500\n  end_ms: 198870\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 198870\n  end_ms: 201190\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 201190\n  end_ms: 204380\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 204380\n  end_ms: 206270\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 206270\n  end_ms: 208750\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 208750\n  end_ms: 211380\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 211380\nplain: |\n  -- Synced by NoMan --\n  My offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n  Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n  In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n  Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n  So in the ring, you cannot win\n  The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n  With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n  Knock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\n  The beautiful blend of power and strength\n  From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n  I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n  Put a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n  Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n  Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\n  And mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\n  The Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n  Yo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\n  Back out the 9, commit a homicide for it\n  If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n  I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n  You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n  Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n  But this time for '99 I got 5 on it\n  You should double up and put a dime on it\n  Matter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\n  I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\n  About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n  Cipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n  Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n  12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\n  I'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n  ‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n  Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n  Of a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\n  I flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\n  I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n  ‘Cause they sounded like idiots\n  They went from silver to gold to platinum\n  After the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\n  They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\n  Y'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n  Before Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\n  And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n  Lord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\n  Took this rap shit to new heights\n  Before the Wright brothers took flight\n  Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n  Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n  Before promotional marketin' and posterlights\n  The Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n  Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\n  Ask Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\n  The Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n"},{"id":24214520,"name":"2000 B.C.","trackName":"2000 B.C.","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":211.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, my offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\nKnock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\nIn bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\nWeavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\nSo in the ring, you cannot win\nThe top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\nWith the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\nKnock you out like ten shots of vodka and gin\n\nThe beautiful blend of power and strength\nFrom the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\nI verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\nPull a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\nWho can spit the words quicker than the average man?\nWho can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs and mangle ya hands\nOn candid cam, the Canibus can\nThe Canibus can with the stamina to damage a man\n\nIt's been a long time\n(It's been a long time)\nI shouldn't have left you\n(I shouldn't have left you)\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all\n(C'mon)\nI roast y'all\n(C'mon)\nSo come on\nHold on\n(Hold on)\n\nIt's been a long time\n(It's been a long time)\nI shouldn't have left you\n(I shouldn't have left you)\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all\n(C'mon)\nI roast y'all\n(C'mon)\nSo come on\nHold on\n(Hold on)\n\nYo, I spit for it\n(Lie for it)\nLive for it\n(Die for it)\nBack out the nine, commit a homicide for it\nIf I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\nI'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\nYou mad at the last album, I apologize for it\nYo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\nBut this time for 99 I got 5 on it\n\nYou should double up and put a dime on it\nMatter of fact, triple your nickle and put 14.99 on it\nI'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop a bomb on it\nAbout ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\nCypher sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\nLook out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standin' on line for it\nI'm a live poet with a sharp ear and eye for it\n'Coz I tear down mics and put a out of order sign on it\n\nIt's been a long time\n(It's been a long time)\nI shouldn't have left you\n(I shouldn't have left you)\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all\n(C'mon)\nI roast y'all\n(C'mon)\nSo come on\nHold on\n(Hold on)\n\nIt's been a long time\n(It's been a long time)\nI shouldn't have left you\n(I shouldn't have left you)\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all\n(C'mon)\nI roast y'all\n(C'mon)\nSo come on\nHold on\n(Hold on)\n\nYo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\nOf a hollow tip at point blank distance\nI flip shit when I spit shit, Father forgive bis\nI just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n'Coz they sounded like idiots, they went from silver to gold to platinum\nAfter the millennium they'll probably be wearin' iridium\nThey so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick they'd probably cum helium\nY'all niggaz can't be serious, I was nice before ice\nBefore Christ, before the words let there be light\nAnd a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n\nLord of the mic before all plant and animal life\nTook this rap shit to new heights\nBefore the Wright brothers took flight\nBefore dog fightin' and aerial strikes\nBefore MC's picked up pens and started to write\nBefore promotional marketin' and posterlights?\nThe Canibus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\nPunch out your motherfuckin' eyesight for the title bought fight\nAsk Top Phife, I snatch the track for half price\nThe Canibus is too nice, gimme that mic\n\nIt's been a long time\n(It's been a long time)\nI shouldn't have left you\n(I shouldn't have left you)\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all\n(C'mon)\nI roast y'all\n(C'mon)\nSo come on\nHold on\n(Hold on)\n\nIt's been a long time\n(It's been a long time)\nI shouldn't have left you\n(I shouldn't have left you)\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all\n(C'mon)\nI roast y'all\n(C'mon)\nSo come on\nHold on\n(Hold on)","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.89] Yo, my offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n[00:27.95] Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n[00:30.38] In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n[00:33.00] Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n[00:35.45] So in the ring, you cannot win\n[00:37.44] The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n[00:40.14] With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n[00:42.54] Knock you out like ten shots of vodka and gin\n[00:44.74] The beautiful blend of power and strength\n[00:46.98] From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n[00:49.64] I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n[00:51.91] Pull a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n[00:54.67] Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n[00:56.92] Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs and mangle ya hands\n[01:00.42] On candid cam, the Canibus can\n[01:02.34] The Canibus can with the stamina to damage a man\n[01:04.56] It's been a long time\n[01:05.97] (It's been a long time)\n[01:06.99] I shouldn't have left you\n[01:07.78] (I shouldn't have left you)\n[01:08.72] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[01:10.22] I told y'all\n[01:10.78] (C'mon)\n[01:11.38] I roast y'all\n[01:11.91] (C'mon)\n[01:12.40] So come on\n[01:13.36] Hold on\n[01:13.63] (Hold on)\n[01:14.06] It's been a long time\n[01:15.22] (It's been a long time)\n[01:16.15] I shouldn't have left you\n[01:17.05] (I shouldn't have left you)\n[01:18.08] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[01:18.37] I told y'all\n[01:19.96] (C'mon)\n[01:20.57] I roast y'all\n[01:21.36] (C'mon)\n[01:21.82] So come on\n[01:22.81] Hold on\n[01:23.35] (Hold on)\n[01:23.94] Yo, I spit for it\n[01:24.98] (Lie for it)\n[01:25.65] Live for it\n[01:26.39] (Die for it)\n[01:26.82] Back out the nine, commit a homicide for it\n[01:28.78] If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n[01:31.13] I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n[01:33.48] You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n[01:35.85] Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n[01:38.83] But this time for 99 I got 5 on it\n[01:41.37] You should double up and put a dime on it\n[01:43.17] Matter of fact, triple your nickle and put 14.99 on it\n[01:46.25] I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop a bomb on it\n[01:48.76] About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n[01:51.86] Cypher sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n[01:53.75] Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n[01:55.96] 12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standin' on line for it\n[01:58.82] I'm a live poet with a sharp ear and eye for it\n[02:01.19] 'Coz I tear down mics and put a out of order sign on it\n[02:03.13] It's been a long time\n[02:04.85] (It's been a long time)\n[02:05.54] I shouldn't have left you\n[02:06.08] (I shouldn't have left you)\n[02:06.83] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[02:08.52] I told y'all\n[02:09.14] (C'mon)\n[02:09.60] I roast y'all\n[02:10.48] (C'mon)\n[02:10.87] So come on\n[02:11.72] Hold on\n[02:12.13] (Hold on)\n[02:12.32] It's been a long time\n[02:14.31] (It's been a long time)\n[02:15.09] I shouldn't have left you\n[02:16.01] (I shouldn't have left you)\n[02:16.73] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[02:17.37] I told y'all\n[02:18.75] (C'mon)\n[02:19.13] I roast y'all\n[02:20.12] (C'mon)\n[02:20.58] So come on\n[02:21.39] Hold on\n[02:21.90] (Hold on)\n[02:22.63] Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n[02:25.77] Of a hollow tip at point blank distance\n[02:27.76] I flip shit when I spit shit, Father forgive bis\n[02:28.20] I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n[02:32.92] 'Coz they sounded like idiots, they went from silver to gold to platinum\n[02:36.58] After the millennium they'll probably be wearin' iridium\n[02:39.58] They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick they'd probably cum helium\n[02:42.86] Y'all niggaz can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n[02:45.43] Before Christ, before the words let there be light\n[02:47.43] And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n[02:50.14] Lord of the mic before all plant and animal life\n[02:52.37] Took this rap shit to new heights\n[02:54.35] Before the Wright brothers took flight\n[02:55.99] Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n[02:57.68] Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n[02:59.73] Before promotional marketin' and posterlights?\n[03:02.26] The Canibus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n[03:05.00] Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight for the title bought fight\n[03:08.47] Ask Top Phife, I snatch the track for half price\n[03:11.68] The Canibus is too nice, gimme that mic\n[03:13.01] It's been a long time\n[03:15.67] (It's been a long time)\n[03:16.20] I shouldn't have left you\n[03:17.45] (I shouldn't have left you)\n[03:18.24] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[03:19.25] I told y'all\n[03:19.77] (C'mon)\n[03:20.27] I roast y'all\n[03:20.44] (C'mon)\n[03:20.67] So come on\n[03:21.57] Hold on\n[03:22.18] (Hold on)\n[03:22.53] It's been a long time\n[03:22.83] (It's been a long time)\n[03:23.78] I shouldn't have left you\n[03:23.96] (I shouldn't have left you)\n[03:24.62] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[03:26.07] I told y'all\n[03:26.62] (C'mon)\n[03:27.16] I roast y'all\n[03:27.60] (C'mon)\n[03:28.07] So come on\n[03:28.33] Hold on\n[03:28.76] (Hold on)\n[03:28.85] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 2000 B.C.\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 211000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, my offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n  start_ms: 890\n  end_ms: 27950\n- text: Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n  start_ms: 27950\n  end_ms: 30380\n- text: In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n  start_ms: 30380\n  end_ms: 33000\n- text: Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n  start_ms: 33000\n  end_ms: 35450\n- text: So in the ring, you cannot win\n  start_ms: 35450\n  end_ms: 37440\n- text: The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n  start_ms: 37440\n  end_ms: 40140\n- text: With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n  start_ms: 40140\n  end_ms: 42540\n- text: Knock you out like ten shots of vodka and gin\n  start_ms: 42540\n  end_ms: 44740\n- text: The beautiful blend of power and strength\n  start_ms: 44740\n  end_ms: 46980\n- text: From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n  start_ms: 46980\n  end_ms: 49640\n- text: I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n  start_ms: 49640\n  end_ms: 51910\n- text: Pull a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n  start_ms: 51910\n  end_ms: 54670\n- text: Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n  start_ms: 54670\n  end_ms: 56920\n- text: Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs and mangle ya hands\n  start_ms: 56920\n  end_ms: 60420\n- text: On candid cam, the Canibus can\n  start_ms: 60420\n  end_ms: 62340\n- text: The Canibus can with the stamina to damage a man\n  start_ms: 62340\n  end_ms: 64560\n- text: It's been a long time\n  start_ms: 64560\n  end_ms: 65970\n- text: (It's been a long time)\n  start_ms: 65970\n  end_ms: 66990\n- text: I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 66990\n  end_ms: 67780\n- text: (I shouldn't have left you)\n  start_ms: 67780\n  end_ms: 68720\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 68720\n  end_ms: 70220\n- text: I told y'all\n  start_ms: 70220\n  end_ms: 70780\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 70780\n  end_ms: 71380\n- text: I roast y'all\n  start_ms: 71380\n  end_ms: 71910\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 71910\n  end_ms: 72400\n- text: So come on\n  start_ms: 72400\n  end_ms: 73360\n- text: Hold on\n  start_ms: 73360\n  end_ms: 73630\n- text: (Hold on)\n  start_ms: 73630\n  end_ms: 74060\n- text: It's been a long time\n  start_ms: 74060\n  end_ms: 75220\n- text: (It's been a long time)\n  start_ms: 75220\n  end_ms: 76150\n- text: I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 76150\n  end_ms: 77050\n- text: (I shouldn't have left you)\n  start_ms: 77050\n  end_ms: 78080\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 78080\n  end_ms: 78370\n- text: I told y'all\n  start_ms: 78370\n  end_ms: 79960\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 79960\n  end_ms: 80570\n- text: I roast y'all\n  start_ms: 80570\n  end_ms: 81360\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 81360\n  end_ms: 81820\n- text: So come on\n  start_ms: 81820\n  end_ms: 82810\n- text: Hold on\n  start_ms: 82810\n  end_ms: 83350\n- text: (Hold on)\n  start_ms: 83350\n  end_ms: 83940\n- text: Yo, I spit for it\n  start_ms: 83940\n  end_ms: 84980\n- text: (Lie for it)\n  start_ms: 84980\n  end_ms: 85650\n- text: Live for it\n  start_ms: 85650\n  end_ms: 86390\n- text: (Die for it)\n  start_ms: 86390\n  end_ms: 86820\n- text: Back out the nine, commit a homicide for it\n  start_ms: 86820\n  end_ms: 88780\n- text: If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n  start_ms: 88780\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93480\n- text: You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n  start_ms: 93480\n  end_ms: 95850\n- text: Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n  start_ms: 95850\n  end_ms: 98830\n- text: But this time for 99 I got 5 on it\n  start_ms: 98830\n  end_ms: 101370\n- text: You should double up and put a dime on it\n  start_ms: 101370\n  end_ms: 103170\n- text: Matter of fact, triple your nickle and put 14.99 on it\n  start_ms: 103170\n  end_ms: 106250\n- text: I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop a bomb on it\n  start_ms: 106250\n  end_ms: 108760\n- text: About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n  start_ms: 108760\n  end_ms: 111860\n- text: Cypher sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n  start_ms: 111860\n  end_ms: 113750\n- text: Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n  start_ms: 113750\n  end_ms: 115960\n- text: 12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standin' on line for it\n  start_ms: 115960\n  end_ms: 118820\n- text: I'm a live poet with a sharp ear and eye for it\n  start_ms: 118820\n  end_ms: 121190\n- text: '''Coz I tear down mics and put a out of order sign on it'\n  start_ms: 121190\n  end_ms: 123130\n- text: It's been a long time\n  start_ms: 123130\n  end_ms: 124850\n- text: (It's been a long time)\n  start_ms: 124850\n  end_ms: 125540\n- text: I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 125540\n  end_ms: 126080\n- text: (I shouldn't have left you)\n  start_ms: 126080\n  end_ms: 126830\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 126830\n  end_ms: 128520\n- text: I told y'all\n  start_ms: 128520\n  end_ms: 129140\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 129140\n  end_ms: 129600\n- text: I roast y'all\n  start_ms: 129600\n  end_ms: 130480\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 130480\n  end_ms: 130870\n- text: So come on\n  start_ms: 130870\n  end_ms: 131720\n- text: Hold on\n  start_ms: 131720\n  end_ms: 132130\n- text: (Hold on)\n  start_ms: 132130\n  end_ms: 132320\n- text: It's been a long time\n  start_ms: 132320\n  end_ms: 134310\n- text: (It's been a long time)\n  start_ms: 134310\n  end_ms: 135090\n- text: I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 135090\n  end_ms: 136010\n- text: (I shouldn't have left you)\n  start_ms: 136010\n  end_ms: 136730\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 136730\n  end_ms: 137370\n- text: I told y'all\n  start_ms: 137370\n  end_ms: 138750\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 138750\n  end_ms: 139130\n- text: I roast y'all\n  start_ms: 139130\n  end_ms: 140120\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 140120\n  end_ms: 140580\n- text: So come on\n  start_ms: 140580\n  end_ms: 141390\n- text: Hold on\n  start_ms: 141390\n  end_ms: 141900\n- text: (Hold on)\n  start_ms: 141900\n  end_ms: 142630\n- text: Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n  start_ms: 142630\n  end_ms: 145770\n- text: Of a hollow tip at point blank distance\n  start_ms: 145770\n  end_ms: 147760\n- text: I flip shit when I spit shit, Father forgive bis\n  start_ms: 147760\n  end_ms: 148200\n- text: I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n  start_ms: 148200\n  end_ms: 152920\n- text: '''Coz they sounded like idiots, they went from silver to gold to platinum'\n  start_ms: 152920\n  end_ms: 156580\n- text: After the millennium they'll probably be wearin' iridium\n  start_ms: 156580\n  end_ms: 159580\n- text: They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick they'd probably cum helium\n  start_ms: 159580\n  end_ms: 162860\n- text: Y'all niggaz can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n  start_ms: 162860\n  end_ms: 165430\n- text: Before Christ, before the words let there be light\n  start_ms: 165430\n  end_ms: 167430\n- text: And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n  start_ms: 167430\n  end_ms: 170140\n- text: Lord of the mic before all plant and animal life\n  start_ms: 170140\n  end_ms: 172370\n- text: Took this rap shit to new heights\n  start_ms: 172370\n  end_ms: 174350\n- text: Before the Wright brothers took flight\n  start_ms: 174350\n  end_ms: 175990\n- text: Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n  start_ms: 175990\n  end_ms: 177680\n- text: Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n  start_ms: 177680\n  end_ms: 179730\n- text: Before promotional marketin' and posterlights?\n  start_ms: 179730\n  end_ms: 182260\n- text: The Canibus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n  start_ms: 182260\n  end_ms: 185000\n- text: Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight for the title bought fight\n  start_ms: 185000\n  end_ms: 188470\n- text: Ask Top Phife, I snatch the track for half price\n  start_ms: 188470\n  end_ms: 191680\n- text: The Canibus is too nice, gimme that mic\n  start_ms: 191680\n  end_ms: 193010\n- text: It's been a long time\n  start_ms: 193010\n  end_ms: 195670\n- text: (It's been a long time)\n  start_ms: 195670\n  end_ms: 196200\n- text: I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 196200\n  end_ms: 197450\n- text: (I shouldn't have left you)\n  start_ms: 197450\n  end_ms: 198240\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 198240\n  end_ms: 199250\n- text: I told y'all\n  start_ms: 199250\n  end_ms: 199770\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 199770\n  end_ms: 200270\n- text: I roast y'all\n  start_ms: 200270\n  end_ms: 200440\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 200440\n  end_ms: 200670\n- text: So come on\n  start_ms: 200670\n  end_ms: 201570\n- text: Hold on\n  start_ms: 201570\n  end_ms: 202180\n- text: (Hold on)\n  start_ms: 202180\n  end_ms: 202530\n- text: It's been a long time\n  start_ms: 202530\n  end_ms: 202830\n- text: (It's been a long time)\n  start_ms: 202830\n  end_ms: 203780\n- text: I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 203780\n  end_ms: 203960\n- text: (I shouldn't have left you)\n  start_ms: 203960\n  end_ms: 204620\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 204620\n  end_ms: 206070\n- text: I told y'all\n  start_ms: 206070\n  end_ms: 206620\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 206620\n  end_ms: 207160\n- text: I roast y'all\n  start_ms: 207160\n  end_ms: 207600\n- text: (C'mon)\n  start_ms: 207600\n  end_ms: 208070\n- text: So come on\n  start_ms: 208070\n  end_ms: 208330\n- text: Hold on\n  start_ms: 208330\n  end_ms: 208760\n- text: (Hold on)\n  start_ms: 208760\n  end_ms: 208850\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 208850\nplain: |-\n  Yo, my offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n  Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n  In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n  Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n  So in the ring, you cannot win\n  The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n  With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n  Knock you out like ten shots of vodka and gin\n\n  The beautiful blend of power and strength\n  From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n  I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n  Pull a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n  Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n  Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs and mangle ya hands\n  On candid cam, the Canibus can\n  The Canibus can with the stamina to damage a man\n\n  It's been a long time\n  (It's been a long time)\n  I shouldn't have left you\n  (I shouldn't have left you)\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  I roast y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  So come on\n  Hold on\n  (Hold on)\n\n  It's been a long time\n  (It's been a long time)\n  I shouldn't have left you\n  (I shouldn't have left you)\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  I roast y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  So come on\n  Hold on\n  (Hold on)\n\n  Yo, I spit for it\n  (Lie for it)\n  Live for it\n  (Die for it)\n  Back out the nine, commit a homicide for it\n  If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n  I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n  You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n  Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n  But this time for 99 I got 5 on it\n\n  You should double up and put a dime on it\n  Matter of fact, triple your nickle and put 14.99 on it\n  I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop a bomb on it\n  About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n  Cypher sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n  Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n  12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standin' on line for it\n  I'm a live poet with a sharp ear and eye for it\n  'Coz I tear down mics and put a out of order sign on it\n\n  It's been a long time\n  (It's been a long time)\n  I shouldn't have left you\n  (I shouldn't have left you)\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  I roast y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  So come on\n  Hold on\n  (Hold on)\n\n  It's been a long time\n  (It's been a long time)\n  I shouldn't have left you\n  (I shouldn't have left you)\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  I roast y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  So come on\n  Hold on\n  (Hold on)\n\n  Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n  Of a hollow tip at point blank distance\n  I flip shit when I spit shit, Father forgive bis\n  I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n  'Coz they sounded like idiots, they went from silver to gold to platinum\n  After the millennium they'll probably be wearin' iridium\n  They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick they'd probably cum helium\n  Y'all niggaz can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n  Before Christ, before the words let there be light\n  And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n\n  Lord of the mic before all plant and animal life\n  Took this rap shit to new heights\n  Before the Wright brothers took flight\n  Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n  Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n  Before promotional marketin' and posterlights?\n  The Canibus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n  Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight for the title bought fight\n  Ask Top Phife, I snatch the track for half price\n  The Canibus is too nice, gimme that mic\n\n  It's been a long time\n  (It's been a long time)\n  I shouldn't have left you\n  (I shouldn't have left you)\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  I roast y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  So come on\n  Hold on\n  (Hold on)\n\n  It's been a long time\n  (It's been a long time)\n  I shouldn't have left you\n  (I shouldn't have left you)\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  I roast y'all\n  (C'mon)\n  So come on\n  Hold on\n  (Hold on)\n"},{"id":33580455,"name":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","trackName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C.","duration":211.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"-- Synced by NoMan --\nMy offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\nKnock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\nIn bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\nWeavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\nSo in the ring, you cannot win\nThe top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\nWith the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\nKnock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\nThe beautiful blend of power and strength\nFrom the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\nI verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\nPut a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\nWho can spit the words quicker than the average man?\nWho can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\nAnd mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\nThe Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\nYo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\nBack out the 9, commit a homicide for it\nIf I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\nI'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\nYou mad at the last album, I apologize for it\nYo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\nBut this time for '99 I got 5 on it\nYou should double up and put a dime on it\nMatter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\nI'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\nAbout ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\nCipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\nLook out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\nI'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\nYo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\nOf a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\nI flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\nI just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n‘Cause they sounded like idiots\nThey went from silver to gold to platinum\nAfter the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\nThey so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\nY'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\nBefore Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\nAnd a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\nLord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\nTook this rap shit to new heights\nBefore the Wright brothers took flight\nBefore dog fightin' and aerial strikes\nBefore MC's picked up pens and started to write\nBefore promotional marketin' and posterlights\nThe Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\nPunch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\nAsk Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\nThe Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\nIt's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\nWithout a strong rhyme to step to\nI told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\nSo come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] -- Synced by NoMan --\n[00:24.70] My offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n[00:27.46] Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n[00:29.87] In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n[00:32.46] Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n[00:34.86] So in the ring, you cannot win\n[00:36.62] The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n[00:39.75] With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n[00:41.91] Knock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\n[00:44.42] The beautiful blend of power and strength\n[00:46.22] From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n[00:49.14] I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n[00:51.78] Put a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n[00:54.27] Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n[00:56.59] Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\n[00:58.98] And mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\n[01:01.46] The Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n\n[01:03.99] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[01:06.75] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[01:09.07] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[01:11.55] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[01:13.75] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[01:16.79] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[01:18.91] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[01:21.35] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n[01:23.58] Yo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\n[01:26.39] Back out the 9, commit a homicide for it\n[01:28.83] If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n[01:31.14] I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n[01:33.67] You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n[01:35.98] Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n[01:38.47] But this time for '99 I got 5 on it\n[01:40.79] You should double up and put a dime on it\n[01:42.63] Matter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\n[01:45.71] I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\n[01:48.14] About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n[01:51.23] Cipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n[01:52.98] Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n[01:55.47] 12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\n[01:57.94] I'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n[02:00.42] ‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n\n[02:02.78] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[02:06.07] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[02:07.91] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[02:10.23] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[02:12.56] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[02:15.83] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[02:17.67] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[02:20.07] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n[02:22.39] Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n[02:25.10] Of a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\n[02:27.28] I flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\n[02:30.00] I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n[02:32.27] ‘Cause they sounded like idiots\n[02:33.75] They went from silver to gold to platinum\n[02:35.91] After the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\n[02:38.54] They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\n[02:42.04] Y'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n[02:44.46] Before Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\n[02:46.71] And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n[02:49.14] Lord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\n[02:51.63] Took this rap shit to new heights\n[02:53.30] Before the Wright brothers took flight\n[02:54.67] Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n[02:56.55] Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n[02:58.94] Before promotional marketin' and posterlights\n[03:01.40] The Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n[03:04.23] Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\n[03:07.48] Ask Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\n[03:10.00] The Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n\n[03:11.71] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[03:14.71] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[03:16.50] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[03:18.87] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[03:21.19] It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n[03:24.38] Without a strong rhyme to step to\n[03:26.27] I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n[03:28.75] So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n[03:31.38] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C.\n  duration_ms: 211000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: -- Synced by NoMan --\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 24700\n- text: My offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n  start_ms: 24700\n  end_ms: 27460\n- text: Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n  start_ms: 27460\n  end_ms: 29870\n- text: In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n  start_ms: 29870\n  end_ms: 32460\n- text: Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n  start_ms: 32460\n  end_ms: 34860\n- text: So in the ring, you cannot win\n  start_ms: 34860\n  end_ms: 36620\n- text: The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n  start_ms: 36620\n  end_ms: 39750\n- text: With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n  start_ms: 39750\n  end_ms: 41910\n- text: Knock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\n  start_ms: 41910\n  end_ms: 44420\n- text: The beautiful blend of power and strength\n  start_ms: 44420\n  end_ms: 46220\n- text: From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n  start_ms: 46220\n  end_ms: 49140\n- text: I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n  start_ms: 49140\n  end_ms: 51780\n- text: Put a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n  start_ms: 51780\n  end_ms: 54270\n- text: Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n  start_ms: 54270\n  end_ms: 56590\n- text: Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\n  start_ms: 56590\n  end_ms: 58980\n- text: And mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\n  start_ms: 58980\n  end_ms: 61460\n- text: The Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n  start_ms: 61460\n  end_ms: 63990\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 63990\n  end_ms: 66750\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 66750\n  end_ms: 69070\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 69070\n  end_ms: 71550\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 71550\n  end_ms: 73750\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 73750\n  end_ms: 76790\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 76790\n  end_ms: 78910\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 78910\n  end_ms: 81350\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 81350\n  end_ms: 83580\n- text: Yo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\n  start_ms: 83580\n  end_ms: 86390\n- text: Back out the 9, commit a homicide for it\n  start_ms: 86390\n  end_ms: 88830\n- text: If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n  start_ms: 88830\n  end_ms: 91140\n- text: I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n  start_ms: 91140\n  end_ms: 93670\n- text: You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n  start_ms: 93670\n  end_ms: 95980\n- text: Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n  start_ms: 95980\n  end_ms: 98470\n- text: But this time for '99 I got 5 on it\n  start_ms: 98470\n  end_ms: 100790\n- text: You should double up and put a dime on it\n  start_ms: 100790\n  end_ms: 102630\n- text: Matter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\n  start_ms: 102630\n  end_ms: 105710\n- text: I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\n  start_ms: 105710\n  end_ms: 108140\n- text: About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n  start_ms: 108140\n  end_ms: 111230\n- text: Cipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n  start_ms: 111230\n  end_ms: 112980\n- text: Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n  start_ms: 112980\n  end_ms: 115470\n- text: 12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\n  start_ms: 115470\n  end_ms: 117940\n- text: I'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n  start_ms: 117940\n  end_ms: 120420\n- text: ‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n  start_ms: 120420\n  end_ms: 122780\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 122780\n  end_ms: 126070\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 126070\n  end_ms: 127910\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 127910\n  end_ms: 130230\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 130230\n  end_ms: 132560\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 132560\n  end_ms: 135830\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 135830\n  end_ms: 137670\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 137670\n  end_ms: 140070\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 140070\n  end_ms: 142390\n- text: Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n  start_ms: 142390\n  end_ms: 145100\n- text: Of a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\n  start_ms: 145100\n  end_ms: 147280\n- text: I flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\n  start_ms: 147280\n  end_ms: 150000\n- text: I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n  start_ms: 150000\n  end_ms: 152270\n- text: ‘Cause they sounded like idiots\n  start_ms: 152270\n  end_ms: 153750\n- text: They went from silver to gold to platinum\n  start_ms: 153750\n  end_ms: 155910\n- text: After the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\n  start_ms: 155910\n  end_ms: 158540\n- text: They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\n  start_ms: 158540\n  end_ms: 162040\n- text: Y'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n  start_ms: 162040\n  end_ms: 164460\n- text: Before Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\n  start_ms: 164460\n  end_ms: 166710\n- text: And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n  start_ms: 166710\n  end_ms: 169140\n- text: Lord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\n  start_ms: 169140\n  end_ms: 171630\n- text: Took this rap shit to new heights\n  start_ms: 171630\n  end_ms: 173300\n- text: Before the Wright brothers took flight\n  start_ms: 173300\n  end_ms: 174670\n- text: Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n  start_ms: 174670\n  end_ms: 176550\n- text: Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n  start_ms: 176550\n  end_ms: 178940\n- text: Before promotional marketin' and posterlights\n  start_ms: 178940\n  end_ms: 181400\n- text: The Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n  start_ms: 181400\n  end_ms: 184230\n- text: Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\n  start_ms: 184230\n  end_ms: 187480\n- text: Ask Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\n  start_ms: 187480\n  end_ms: 190000\n- text: The Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n  start_ms: 190000\n  end_ms: 191710\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 191710\n  end_ms: 194710\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 194710\n  end_ms: 196500\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 196500\n  end_ms: 198870\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 198870\n  end_ms: 201190\n- text: It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  start_ms: 201190\n  end_ms: 204380\n- text: Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  start_ms: 204380\n  end_ms: 206270\n- text: I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  start_ms: 206270\n  end_ms: 208750\n- text: So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  start_ms: 208750\n  end_ms: 211380\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 211380\nplain: |\n  -- Synced by NoMan --\n  My offense is a mixture of Mike and Muhammad\n  Knock a nigga unconscious and talk shit\n  In bare-knuckle boxin', speed is the object\n  Weavin' and dodgin' with defensive blockin'\n  So in the ring, you cannot win\n  The top ten become nine dead if I ever decide to hop in\n  With the one-two, one-two shot to the chin\n  Knock you out, like ten shots of vodka and gin\n  The beautiful blend of power and strength\n  From the top of my head, down to where my toe cuticles end\n  I verbally burn a nigga, lyrically hurt a nigga\n  Put a voodoo verse on a nigga, Kennedy curse a nigga\n  Who can spit the words quicker than the average man?\n  Who can embarrass a man? Bite you with fangs\n  And mangle your hands on candid cam? The Canibus can\n  The Canibus can, with the stamina to damage a man\n\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n  Yo, I spit for it, rhyme for it, live for it, die for it!)\n  Back out the 9, commit a homicide for it\n  If I'm handcuffed with the right to remain silent for it\n  I'ma blow trial and do the federal time for it\n  You mad at the last album, I apologize for it\n  Yo, I can't call it, motherfuckin' Wyclef spoiled it\n  But this time for '99 I got 5 on it\n  You should double up and put a dime on it\n  Matter of fact, triple your nickel and put 14.99 on it\n  I'ma shine on it, watch Flex drop the bomb on it\n  About ten times on it, watch people call a request line for it\n  Cipha Sounds keep pushin' rewind on it\n  Look out for the album with the Canibus design on it\n  12 o'clock in the morning you'll be standing on line for it\n  I'm a live poet, with a sharp ear and eye for it\n  ‘Cause I tear down mics and put a out-of-order sign on it\n\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n\n  Yo, I rip shit with the ballistic characteristics\n  Of a hollow-tip at point-blank distance\n  I flip shit when I spit shit; Father, forgive Bis\n  I just snatched the Jesus piece off some Christians\n  ‘Cause they sounded like idiots\n  They went from silver to gold to platinum\n  After the millennium they'll probably be wearing Iridium\n  They so gassed, if a bitch sucked they dick They'd probably cum helium\n  Y'all niggas can't be serious, I was nice before ice\n  Before Christ, before the words, \"Let there be light\"\n  And a light took over the night, I was born with a mic\n  Lord of the mic, before all plant and animal life\n  Took this rap shit to new heights\n  Before the Wright brothers took flight\n  Before dog fightin' and aerial strikes\n  Before MC's picked up pens and started to write\n  Before promotional marketin' and posterlights\n  The Can-I-Bus'll bust up mics, punch out lights\n  Punch out your motherfuckin' eyesight, for the title bout fight\n  Ask Ty Fyffe, I snatch the track for half price\n  The Canibus is too nice; give me that mic!!\n\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n  It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you\n  Without a strong rhyme to step to\n  I told y'all, (C'mon!) I roast y'all, (C'mon!)\n  So come on, (Hold on!) hold on!\n"},{"id":14558416,"name":"Lost @ \"C\"","trackName":"Lost @ \"C\"","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":299.258776,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Hovoria o nás, že sme stratená generácia jak Hemingway,\nSerotonin vyplavuje sa do našich hemisfér,\nústa do široka ale nemyl sa to neni smiech,\nna to čim trpíme my tak neni liek,\nokolo nás preteká celý svet,\nmaskujeme pocity jak Johnny Depp, ha,\nprijímame šťastie cez nos,\nspíme cez deň, žijeme cez noc, dávno spálili sme ten most, ha.\nRýchle jedlo, rýchle vzťahy, rýchle všetko,\nna párty nám občas zvykne bývať teplo,\naj keď je v klube mínus dvadsať (haha),\nkedysi sa ešte zvykol čakať.\nOd výplaty do výplaty, chill je to tak od výplaty,\nprvý týždeň pak už nemám prachy ha,\ndrogy, párty, drahé handry, kreditky,\nfaktury, obedy, debety, brácho, já to platím, ha.\n\nPamätáme si úplne všetko,\nale snažíme sa zabudnúť,\n(hej, hej, hej, hej)\nneznášame ľudí a kričíme fuck you,\njak Frank Underwood.\n(hej, hej, hej, hej)\n\nBeloch, som faded,\nráno, som faded,\nv práci, som faded,\nv aute, som faded,\nvečer, som faded,\nstále som faded,\nPeko, som faded,\náno, som faded.\n\nTaxíky nás zvážajú do centra,\nsrdce pumpuje tie drogy do ciev nám,\nprísahám, že budeš moja posledná,\nkrúžim Lincolnom jak Frank Ocean,\nkaždé ráno nespím, musím myslieť na teba,\nnemôžem s tým prestať ja, jebať,\nlásku na každom rohu ako kebab,\nBombay tonic, weed, MDMA,\nnaše srdcia prešli na druhú stranu ako Brody,\nnevim kým som, ale viem kým neni som,\nkaždým krokom ponárame sa do hlbšej vody\na každý víkend hľadám moju Carrie Mathison,\nv piči som\na cítim sa jak Pinkman Jesse,\npovedzte mi, kto je dneska svätý,\nAko Wonder píšem vety, my sme šťastné deti, brácho, nemaj kecy.\nVýpovede, vzťahy, rozchody a žiadna zóna plná pohody,\na preto vhadzujem ten kryštál do vody jak všetci,\nja nemyslím na to čo bolo včera, ne to pred tým,\nako zrútil sa môj Vesmír jak líška túlam sa besný.\n\nPriváty, hotely, svetla, tváre, rite, stehná, cecky,\njá spávam s nimi všade aj keď neznášam tie štetky,\npoviem ti to ako Ferg, hoe pracuj, pracuj,\nsvetlé dievča, tmavá izba, otváram tu fľašu.\n\nPamätáme si úplne všetko,\nale snažíme sa zabudnúť,\n(hej, hej, hej, hej)\nneznášame ľudí a kričíme fuck you,\njak Frank Underwood.\n(hej, hej, hej, hej)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Lost @ \"C\"\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 299259\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Hovoria o nás, že sme stratená generácia jak Hemingway,\n  Serotonin vyplavuje sa do našich hemisfér,\n  ústa do široka ale nemyl sa to neni smiech,\n  na to čim trpíme my tak neni liek,\n  okolo nás preteká celý svet,\n  maskujeme pocity jak Johnny Depp, ha,\n  prijímame šťastie cez nos,\n  spíme cez deň, žijeme cez noc, dávno spálili sme ten most, ha.\n  Rýchle jedlo, rýchle vzťahy, rýchle všetko,\n  na párty nám občas zvykne bývať teplo,\n  aj keď je v klube mínus dvadsať (haha),\n  kedysi sa ešte zvykol čakať.\n  Od výplaty do výplaty, chill je to tak od výplaty,\n  prvý týždeň pak už nemám prachy ha,\n  drogy, párty, drahé handry, kreditky,\n  faktury, obedy, debety, brácho, já to platím, ha.\n\n  Pamätáme si úplne všetko,\n  ale snažíme sa zabudnúť,\n  (hej, hej, hej, hej)\n  neznášame ľudí a kričíme fuck you,\n  jak Frank Underwood.\n  (hej, hej, hej, hej)\n\n  Beloch, som faded,\n  ráno, som faded,\n  v práci, som faded,\n  v aute, som faded,\n  večer, som faded,\n  stále som faded,\n  Peko, som faded,\n  áno, som faded.\n\n  Taxíky nás zvážajú do centra,\n  srdce pumpuje tie drogy do ciev nám,\n  prísahám, že budeš moja posledná,\n  krúžim Lincolnom jak Frank Ocean,\n  každé ráno nespím, musím myslieť na teba,\n  nemôžem s tým prestať ja, jebať,\n  lásku na každom rohu ako kebab,\n  Bombay tonic, weed, MDMA,\n  naše srdcia prešli na druhú stranu ako Brody,\n  nevim kým som, ale viem kým neni som,\n  každým krokom ponárame sa do hlbšej vody\n  a každý víkend hľadám moju Carrie Mathison,\n  v piči som\n  a cítim sa jak Pinkman Jesse,\n  povedzte mi, kto je dneska svätý,\n  Ako Wonder píšem vety, my sme šťastné deti, brácho, nemaj kecy.\n  Výpovede, vzťahy, rozchody a žiadna zóna plná pohody,\n  a preto vhadzujem ten kryštál do vody jak všetci,\n  ja nemyslím na to čo bolo včera, ne to pred tým,\n  ako zrútil sa môj Vesmír jak líška túlam sa besný.\n\n  Priváty, hotely, svetla, tváre, rite, stehná, cecky,\n  já spávam s nimi všade aj keď neznášam tie štetky,\n  poviem ti to ako Ferg, hoe pracuj, pracuj,\n  svetlé dievča, tmavá izba, otváram tu fľašu.\n\n  Pamätáme si úplne všetko,\n  ale snažíme sa zabudnúť,\n  (hej, hej, hej, hej)\n  neznášame ľudí a kričíme fuck you,\n  jak Frank Underwood.\n  (hej, hej, hej, hej)\n"},{"id":25623055,"name":"Lost @ C","trackName":"Lost @ C","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":4.032563,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"-- Synced by NoMan --\n\nYo, yo, yo!\n\nNow when you see that big ass 'C', you know I'm coming through\nAnd when you know I'm coming through, you know what I'ma do\nI never said that battling me would be impossible\nI just think it's highly motherfucking improbable\nYou talkin to a nigga that can split molecules\nTo subatomic particles, strong enough to stop a bull\nBody-slam two oxes and drop a mule\nUrinating rocket fuel, freestyling over gospel tunes\nRhymes by the thousands, rhymes for hours\nI could kick a rhyme longer than your whole album\nThe kickboxer beating the shit out niggas proper\nI beat 'em 'til they holla, beat 'em til the cops come\nBeating niggas til they have seizures, beat 'em 'til they start screaming\nLike fax machines when they start receiving\nBeat 'em 'til my own hands start bleeding\nBeat 'em 'til their lungs stop breathing and their heart stop beating\nFrom 12 A.M. to 12 P.M. in the evening\nWith three 15 minute breaks in between 'em\nGood Jesus, that's a real West Indian beating\nThat's what you get for fucking with this lyrical demon\nMy bloodstream's been, contaminated for eons\nI got cast out of Heaven for treason\nGot cast out of the Garden of Eden for letting the reptilian beast in\nGot locked up for a DUI and speeding\nA whole legion of half-decent MCs'll get released when\nThey spit a hundred bars for their freedom\nSee I'm much too nice to compete with\nToo nice to flow over beats wit, too nice to hold a M-I-C with\nOff some diesel Hercules shit, I cold flip\nAnd start to punch trees 'til they leafless\nInhale with two real deep breaths, hold my breath\n'Til the whole planet suffocates and then release it (Release it!)\n\nYo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\nWhen you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\nEither you roll with us, or get blown to dust\nYo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\nWhen we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\nEither you roll with us, or get blown to dust (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\n\nYo, yo, now for the last couple of months, things been real quiet\n'Cause I ain't heard shit worth buyin'\nI'm bout to show you niggas how I'm driven\nThe drive comes from my lyrics and my lyrics come from my inner spirit\nVibrating and spinning, faster than 12-cylinder engines\nWith nitrogen in 'em, faster than F-1 McLaren pistons\nFast enough to give your brain an aneurysm\n'Cause you niggas is slower than fat bitches' metabolism\nThe way I rip apart the competition when I be spitting\nThe name Canibus might as well be Cannibalism\nShow me a man that can't feel him\nI'll show you a man that'll grab him by the neck and put his head to the fan on the ceiling\nSuffer real \"Banned From Television\" shit\nDrop him off the roof of a building and let the news film him\nI hop in front of the cameras and tell 'em how I'm feeling\nI tell 'em how I feel that hip-hop should deal with it\nTell 'em how I'm tired of the state rap is in\n90% of the shit that rappers kick is subject matter-less\nNot original, but blasphemous, just a bunch of the same characters\nShooting the same videos, it's embarrassing\nUsing the same formulas to have a hit\nUsing the same actors and actresses, same shit different laxative\nFace it nigga you wack as shit I'm snatchin your mic\nI make you run for your life, chill during the daylight\nThen track you at night, my global position is satellite\nGot an infrared lens to detect your body's Fahrenheit\nWherever you go, I track you through hail, sleet or snow\nI track you 'til your Caesar grows into an afro\nUntil you plant 'em into cornrows\nTrack you 'til your shoe soles develop holes and you get.corns on your toes\n'Til your teeth develop halitosis\nBut you been going so long without deodorant you don't even notice. Motherfucker!\n\nYo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\nWhen you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\nEither you roll with us, or get blown to dust\nYo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\nWhen we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\nEither you roll with us, or get blown to dust (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\nYo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\nWhen you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\nEither you roll with us, or get blown to dust\nYo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\nWhen we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\nEither you roll with us, or get blown to dust. (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.41] -- Synced by NoMan --\n\n[00:27.75] Yo, yo, yo!\n\n[00:29.48] Now when you see that big ass 'C', you know I'm coming through\n[00:32.32] And when you know I'm coming through, you know what I'ma do\n[00:34.96] I never said that battling me would be impossible\n[00:37.84] I just think it's highly motherfucking improbable\n[00:40.44] You talkin to a nigga that can split molecules\n[00:42.97] To subatomic particles, strong enough to stop a bull\n[00:45.95] Body-slam two oxes and drop a mule\n[00:48.31] Urinating rocket fuel, freestyling over gospel tunes\n[00:51.51] Rhymes by the thousands, rhymes for hours\n[00:53.76] I could kick a rhyme longer than your whole album\n[00:56.47] The kickboxer beating the shit out niggas proper\n[00:59.23] I beat 'em 'til they holla, beat 'em til the cops come\n[01:01.96] Beating niggas til they have seizures, beat 'em 'til they start screaming\n[01:05.12] Like fax machines when they start receiving\n[01:07.23] Beat 'em 'til my own hands start bleeding\n[01:09.27] Beat 'em 'til their lungs stop breathing and their heart stop beating\n[01:12.47] From 12 A.M. to 12 P.M. in the evening\n[01:15.12] With three 15 minute breaks in between 'em\n[01:17.52] Good Jesus, that's a real West Indian beating\n[01:20.44] That's what you get for fucking with this lyrical demon\n[01:23.12] My bloodstream's been, contaminated for eons\n[01:25.72] I got cast out of Heaven for treason\n[01:27.79] Got cast out of the Garden of Eden for letting the reptilian beast in\n[01:31.55] Got locked up for a DUI and speeding\n[01:33.83] A whole legion of half-decent MCs'll get released when\n[01:36.91] They spit a hundred bars for their freedom\n[01:38.91] See I'm much too nice to compete with\n[01:40.84] Too nice to flow over beats wit, too nice to hold a M-I-C with\n[01:44.47] Off some diesel Hercules shit, I cold flip\n[01:46.91] And start to punch trees 'til they leafless\n[01:48.92] Inhale with two real deep breaths, hold my breath\n[01:51.32] 'Til the whole planet suffocates and then release it (Release it!)\n\n[01:54.35] Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n[01:57.39] When you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n[02:00.11] 'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n[02:02.79] Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust\n[02:05.36] Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n[02:08.04] When we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n[02:10.80] 'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n[02:13.36] Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\n\n[02:25.69] Yo, yo, now for the last couple of months, things been real quiet\n[02:29.77] 'Cause I ain't heard shit worth buyin'\n[02:31.74] I'm bout to show you niggas how I'm driven\n[02:33.70] The drive comes from my lyrics and my lyrics come from my inner spirit\n[02:37.13] Vibrating and spinning, faster than 12-cylinder engines\n[02:40.30] With nitrogen in 'em, faster than F-1 McLaren pistons\n[02:43.42] Fast enough to give your brain an aneurysm\n[02:45.65] 'Cause you niggas is slower than fat bitches' metabolism\n[02:48.30] The way I rip apart the competition when I be spitting\n[02:51.10] The name Canibus might as well be Cannibalism\n[02:53.70] Show me a man that can't feel him\n[02:55.30] I'll show you a man that'll grab him by the neck and put his head to the fan on the ceiling\n[02:59.42] Suffer real \"Banned From Television\" shit\n[03:01.50] Drop him off the roof of a building and let the news film him\n[03:04.34] I hop in front of the cameras and tell 'em how I'm feeling\n[03:07.01] I tell 'em how I feel that hip-hop should deal with it\n[03:09.62] Tell 'em how I'm tired of the state rap is in\n[03:11.86] 90% of the shit that rappers kick is subject matter-less\n[03:14.90] Not original, but blasphemous, just a bunch of the same characters\n[03:18.10] Shooting the same videos, it's embarrassing\n[03:20.17] Using the same formulas to have a hit\n[03:22.21] Using the same actors and actresses, same shit different laxative\n[03:25.86] Face it nigga you wack as shit I'm snatchin your mic\n[03:28.17] I make you run for your life, chill during the daylight\n[03:30.82] Then track you at night, my global position is satellite\n[03:33.45] Got an infrared lens to detect your body's Fahrenheit\n[03:36.26] Wherever you go, I track you through hail, sleet or snow\n[03:39.02] I track you 'til your Caesar grows into an afro\n[03:41.47] Until you plant 'em into cornrows\n[03:43.20] Track you 'til your shoe soles develop holes and you get.corns on your toes\n[03:46.87] 'Til your teeth develop halitosis\n[03:48.81] But you been going so long without deodorant you don't even notice. Motherfucker!\n\n[03:52.25] Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n[03:54.84] When you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n[03:57.48] 'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n[04:00.11] Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust\n[04:02.72] Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n[04:05.39] When we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n[04:08.16] 'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n[04:10.69] Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\n[04:13.39] Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n[04:16.11] When you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n[04:18.75] 'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n[04:21.44] Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust\n[04:24.07] Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n[04:26.75] When we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n[04:29.46] 'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n[04:32.08] Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust. (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\n[04:58.77] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Lost @ C\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 4033\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: -- Synced by NoMan --\n  start_ms: 410\n  end_ms: 27750\n- text: Yo, yo, yo!\n  start_ms: 27750\n  end_ms: 29480\n- text: Now when you see that big ass 'C', you know I'm coming through\n  start_ms: 29480\n  end_ms: 32320\n- text: And when you know I'm coming through, you know what I'ma do\n  start_ms: 32320\n  end_ms: 34960\n- text: I never said that battling me would be impossible\n  start_ms: 34960\n  end_ms: 37840\n- text: I just think it's highly motherfucking improbable\n  start_ms: 37840\n  end_ms: 40440\n- text: You talkin to a nigga that can split molecules\n  start_ms: 40440\n  end_ms: 42970\n- text: To subatomic particles, strong enough to stop a bull\n  start_ms: 42970\n  end_ms: 45950\n- text: Body-slam two oxes and drop a mule\n  start_ms: 45950\n  end_ms: 48310\n- text: Urinating rocket fuel, freestyling over gospel tunes\n  start_ms: 48310\n  end_ms: 51510\n- text: Rhymes by the thousands, rhymes for hours\n  start_ms: 51510\n  end_ms: 53760\n- text: I could kick a rhyme longer than your whole album\n  start_ms: 53760\n  end_ms: 56470\n- text: The kickboxer beating the shit out niggas proper\n  start_ms: 56470\n  end_ms: 59230\n- text: I beat 'em 'til they holla, beat 'em til the cops come\n  start_ms: 59230\n  end_ms: 61960\n- text: Beating niggas til they have seizures, beat 'em 'til they start screaming\n  start_ms: 61960\n  end_ms: 65120\n- text: Like fax machines when they start receiving\n  start_ms: 65120\n  end_ms: 67230\n- text: Beat 'em 'til my own hands start bleeding\n  start_ms: 67230\n  end_ms: 69270\n- text: Beat 'em 'til their lungs stop breathing and their heart stop beating\n  start_ms: 69270\n  end_ms: 72470\n- text: From 12 A.M. to 12 P.M. in the evening\n  start_ms: 72470\n  end_ms: 75120\n- text: With three 15 minute breaks in between 'em\n  start_ms: 75120\n  end_ms: 77520\n- text: Good Jesus, that's a real West Indian beating\n  start_ms: 77520\n  end_ms: 80440\n- text: That's what you get for fucking with this lyrical demon\n  start_ms: 80440\n  end_ms: 83120\n- text: My bloodstream's been, contaminated for eons\n  start_ms: 83120\n  end_ms: 85720\n- text: I got cast out of Heaven for treason\n  start_ms: 85720\n  end_ms: 87790\n- text: Got cast out of the Garden of Eden for letting the reptilian beast in\n  start_ms: 87790\n  end_ms: 91550\n- text: Got locked up for a DUI and speeding\n  start_ms: 91550\n  end_ms: 93830\n- text: A whole legion of half-decent MCs'll get released when\n  start_ms: 93830\n  end_ms: 96910\n- text: They spit a hundred bars for their freedom\n  start_ms: 96910\n  end_ms: 98910\n- text: See I'm much too nice to compete with\n  start_ms: 98910\n  end_ms: 100840\n- text: Too nice to flow over beats wit, too nice to hold a M-I-C with\n  start_ms: 100840\n  end_ms: 104470\n- text: Off some diesel Hercules shit, I cold flip\n  start_ms: 104470\n  end_ms: 106910\n- text: And start to punch trees 'til they leafless\n  start_ms: 106910\n  end_ms: 108920\n- text: Inhale with two real deep breaths, hold my breath\n  start_ms: 108920\n  end_ms: 111320\n- text: '''Til the whole planet suffocates and then release it (Release it!)'\n  start_ms: 111320\n  end_ms: 114350\n- text: Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  start_ms: 114350\n  end_ms: 117390\n- text: When you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n  start_ms: 117390\n  end_ms: 120110\n- text: '''Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush'\n  start_ms: 120110\n  end_ms: 122790\n- text: Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust\n  start_ms: 122790\n  end_ms: 125360\n- text: Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  start_ms: 125360\n  end_ms: 128040\n- text: When we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n  start_ms: 128040\n  end_ms: 130800\n- text: '''Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush'\n  start_ms: 130800\n  end_ms: 133360\n- text: Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\n  start_ms: 133360\n  end_ms: 145690\n- text: Yo, yo, now for the last couple of months, things been real quiet\n  start_ms: 145690\n  end_ms: 149770\n- text: '''Cause I ain''t heard shit worth buyin'''\n  start_ms: 149770\n  end_ms: 151740\n- text: I'm bout to show you niggas how I'm driven\n  start_ms: 151740\n  end_ms: 153700\n- text: The drive comes from my lyrics and my lyrics come from my inner spirit\n  start_ms: 153700\n  end_ms: 157130\n- text: Vibrating and spinning, faster than 12-cylinder engines\n  start_ms: 157130\n  end_ms: 160300\n- text: With nitrogen in 'em, faster than F-1 McLaren pistons\n  start_ms: 160300\n  end_ms: 163420\n- text: Fast enough to give your brain an aneurysm\n  start_ms: 163420\n  end_ms: 165650\n- text: '''Cause you niggas is slower than fat bitches'' metabolism'\n  start_ms: 165650\n  end_ms: 168300\n- text: The way I rip apart the competition when I be spitting\n  start_ms: 168300\n  end_ms: 171100\n- text: The name Canibus might as well be Cannibalism\n  start_ms: 171100\n  end_ms: 173700\n- text: Show me a man that can't feel him\n  start_ms: 173700\n  end_ms: 175300\n- text: I'll show you a man that'll grab him by the neck and put his head to the fan on the ceiling\n  start_ms: 175300\n  end_ms: 179420\n- text: Suffer real \"Banned From Television\" shit\n  start_ms: 179420\n  end_ms: 181500\n- text: Drop him off the roof of a building and let the news film him\n  start_ms: 181500\n  end_ms: 184340\n- text: I hop in front of the cameras and tell 'em how I'm feeling\n  start_ms: 184340\n  end_ms: 187010\n- text: I tell 'em how I feel that hip-hop should deal with it\n  start_ms: 187010\n  end_ms: 189620\n- text: Tell 'em how I'm tired of the state rap is in\n  start_ms: 189620\n  end_ms: 191860\n- text: 90% of the shit that rappers kick is subject matter-less\n  start_ms: 191860\n  end_ms: 194900\n- text: Not original, but blasphemous, just a bunch of the same characters\n  start_ms: 194900\n  end_ms: 198100\n- text: Shooting the same videos, it's embarrassing\n  start_ms: 198100\n  end_ms: 200170\n- text: Using the same formulas to have a hit\n  start_ms: 200170\n  end_ms: 202210\n- text: Using the same actors and actresses, same shit different laxative\n  start_ms: 202210\n  end_ms: 205860\n- text: Face it nigga you wack as shit I'm snatchin your mic\n  start_ms: 205860\n  end_ms: 208170\n- text: I make you run for your life, chill during the daylight\n  start_ms: 208170\n  end_ms: 210820\n- text: Then track you at night, my global position is satellite\n  start_ms: 210820\n  end_ms: 213450\n- text: Got an infrared lens to detect your body's Fahrenheit\n  start_ms: 213450\n  end_ms: 216260\n- text: Wherever you go, I track you through hail, sleet or snow\n  start_ms: 216260\n  end_ms: 219020\n- text: I track you 'til your Caesar grows into an afro\n  start_ms: 219020\n  end_ms: 221470\n- text: Until you plant 'em into cornrows\n  start_ms: 221470\n  end_ms: 223200\n- text: Track you 'til your shoe soles develop holes and you get.corns on your toes\n  start_ms: 223200\n  end_ms: 226870\n- text: '''Til your teeth develop halitosis'\n  start_ms: 226870\n  end_ms: 228810\n- text: But you been going so long without deodorant you don't even notice. Motherfucker!\n  start_ms: 228810\n  end_ms: 232250\n- text: Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  start_ms: 232250\n  end_ms: 234840\n- text: When you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n  start_ms: 234840\n  end_ms: 237480\n- text: '''Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush'\n  start_ms: 237480\n  end_ms: 240110\n- text: Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust\n  start_ms: 240110\n  end_ms: 242720\n- text: Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  start_ms: 242720\n  end_ms: 245390\n- text: When we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n  start_ms: 245390\n  end_ms: 248160\n- text: '''Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush'\n  start_ms: 248160\n  end_ms: 250690\n- text: Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\n  start_ms: 250690\n  end_ms: 253390\n- text: Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  start_ms: 253390\n  end_ms: 256110\n- text: When you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n  start_ms: 256110\n  end_ms: 258750\n- text: '''Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush'\n  start_ms: 258750\n  end_ms: 261440\n- text: Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust\n  start_ms: 261440\n  end_ms: 264070\n- text: Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  start_ms: 264070\n  end_ms: 266750\n- text: When we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n  start_ms: 266750\n  end_ms: 269460\n- text: '''Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush'\n  start_ms: 269460\n  end_ms: 272080\n- text: Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust. (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\n  start_ms: 272080\n  end_ms: 298770\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 298770\nplain: |\n  -- Synced by NoMan --\n\n  Yo, yo, yo!\n\n  Now when you see that big ass 'C', you know I'm coming through\n  And when you know I'm coming through, you know what I'ma do\n  I never said that battling me would be impossible\n  I just think it's highly motherfucking improbable\n  You talkin to a nigga that can split molecules\n  To subatomic particles, strong enough to stop a bull\n  Body-slam two oxes and drop a mule\n  Urinating rocket fuel, freestyling over gospel tunes\n  Rhymes by the thousands, rhymes for hours\n  I could kick a rhyme longer than your whole album\n  The kickboxer beating the shit out niggas proper\n  I beat 'em 'til they holla, beat 'em til the cops come\n  Beating niggas til they have seizures, beat 'em 'til they start screaming\n  Like fax machines when they start receiving\n  Beat 'em 'til my own hands start bleeding\n  Beat 'em 'til their lungs stop breathing and their heart stop beating\n  From 12 A.M. to 12 P.M. in the evening\n  With three 15 minute breaks in between 'em\n  Good Jesus, that's a real West Indian beating\n  That's what you get for fucking with this lyrical demon\n  My bloodstream's been, contaminated for eons\n  I got cast out of Heaven for treason\n  Got cast out of the Garden of Eden for letting the reptilian beast in\n  Got locked up for a DUI and speeding\n  A whole legion of half-decent MCs'll get released when\n  They spit a hundred bars for their freedom\n  See I'm much too nice to compete with\n  Too nice to flow over beats wit, too nice to hold a M-I-C with\n  Off some diesel Hercules shit, I cold flip\n  And start to punch trees 'til they leafless\n  Inhale with two real deep breaths, hold my breath\n  'Til the whole planet suffocates and then release it (Release it!)\n\n  Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  When you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n  'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n  Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust\n  Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  When we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n  'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n  Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\n\n  Yo, yo, now for the last couple of months, things been real quiet\n  'Cause I ain't heard shit worth buyin'\n  I'm bout to show you niggas how I'm driven\n  The drive comes from my lyrics and my lyrics come from my inner spirit\n  Vibrating and spinning, faster than 12-cylinder engines\n  With nitrogen in 'em, faster than F-1 McLaren pistons\n  Fast enough to give your brain an aneurysm\n  'Cause you niggas is slower than fat bitches' metabolism\n  The way I rip apart the competition when I be spitting\n  The name Canibus might as well be Cannibalism\n  Show me a man that can't feel him\n  I'll show you a man that'll grab him by the neck and put his head to the fan on the ceiling\n  Suffer real \"Banned From Television\" shit\n  Drop him off the roof of a building and let the news film him\n  I hop in front of the cameras and tell 'em how I'm feeling\n  I tell 'em how I feel that hip-hop should deal with it\n  Tell 'em how I'm tired of the state rap is in\n  90% of the shit that rappers kick is subject matter-less\n  Not original, but blasphemous, just a bunch of the same characters\n  Shooting the same videos, it's embarrassing\n  Using the same formulas to have a hit\n  Using the same actors and actresses, same shit different laxative\n  Face it nigga you wack as shit I'm snatchin your mic\n  I make you run for your life, chill during the daylight\n  Then track you at night, my global position is satellite\n  Got an infrared lens to detect your body's Fahrenheit\n  Wherever you go, I track you through hail, sleet or snow\n  I track you 'til your Caesar grows into an afro\n  Until you plant 'em into cornrows\n  Track you 'til your shoe soles develop holes and you get.corns on your toes\n  'Til your teeth develop halitosis\n  But you been going so long without deodorant you don't even notice. Motherfucker!\n\n  Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  When you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n  'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n  Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust\n  Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  When we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n  'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n  Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\n  Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  When you get thrown to the wolves, you get thrown to us\n  'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n  Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust\n  Yo, you ain't as cold as us, or as bold as us\n  When we in the war-zone, we got the chrome with us\n  'Cause we rolling rough, when the soldiers rush\n  Either you roll with us, or get blown to dust. (Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust!)\n"},{"id":20992080,"name":"Lost At \"C\"","trackName":"Lost At \"C\"","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":300.3037079,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo yo yo when you see that big ass c\nyou know im coming through\nand when you know im coming thru\nyou know what im guna do,\ni never said the battle with me\nwould be impossable.\ni just think its highly muthafuckin improbable.\nyou talking to a nigga who can split molecules to sub-atomic particales strong enough to stop a bull body slap a two ax's and drop a mule, urinating rocket fuel freestyling over gospl tunes. rhymes by the thousands rhymes for hours i can kick a rhyme longa then your whole album\nkick boxer beating da shit outta nigga proper\ni beat till they holla\nbeat em till the cops beating niggas till they have seizures\nbeating til they start screaming,\nlike fax machines when they start receiving\nbeat em till my own hands start bleedin'\nbeat em till their lungs stop breathin' and their hearts stop beatin'from 12 am till 12pm in the evenin' with 3, 15 min breaks in between them\ngood jesus, thats a real west indian beatin'\nthats what you get fo fuckin wit this lyrical demon my blood streams been\ncontaminated for eons\ni got cast out of hevean for treasen\ngot cast out of the garden of edon for letting the reptilain beast in got locked up for a d.u.i\nand speedin'\na whole leagon will have decent mc's to get released when they spit 100 bars for their freedom, see im much to nice to compete with to nice to flow over beats with to nice to hold a mic wit on some decent hurcules shit i cold flip and start to punch trees till they leaveless, inhale with to 2 real deep breaths, hold my breath till the whole planet sufficates then release it (release it)\nYo you aint as cold as us\nyou ad bold as us\nwhen you get thrown to the wolves\nyou get thrown to us!\ncuz we rollin' rough when the soljah's rush\neither you roll wit us or get blown to dust\nYo you aint as cold as us or as bold as us\nwhen we in the war zone we got the chrome wit us\ncuz we rollin rough when the soljahs rush,(ashes to ashes dust to dust) either you roll wit us or get blown to dust.\n\nYo yo yo, now for the last couple of months things been real quiet\nbecz i aint heard shit worth buyin'\nand my lyrics come from my inna spirit???\nfaster then 12 cyclinder engines with nytrogene in them.\nfaster then f1 macmarin pistons\nfast enough to give your brain an aneurysm\nbecause you niggas are slower then a fat bitches\nmetabolism.\nthe way i be rippin apart the competion when i be spitin'\nthe name canibus might as well be canabulism.\nshow me a man that cant feel em\nill show you a man that will grab him by the neck and but his head\nto the fan\non the ceiling\nsumtin real banned from televsion shit\ndrop hi m off the top of the buildin and let the news film him\nill hop in front of the cameras\nand tell em how im feeling\nill tell how i feel tha hip hop should deal wit it.\ntell him im tired of these state rappaz is 90 percent of rappas kick is subject matterless not orginal but blasphemous just a bunch of the same characters shooting the same videos its embarrassin'using the same formulas to have a hit\nusing the same acters and actresses same shit\ndifferent laxative face it nigga ya wack as shit\nim snatchin ya mike\nill make you run for ya life\nchill during the day light\nto track you at night my global position is satelites i got a infored lens to detect you bodies farahight\nwhere ever you go\nill track you thru hell sleet or snow\nill track you till you ceaser grows into an afo\nor till your???\ntrack till your shoe sole develpoe holes and you get corns on your toes\ntill your teeth develope halitosis\nbut you been going so long without deoterent you dont even notice muthafucka!\nx2","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Lost At \"C\"\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 300304\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yo yo yo when you see that big ass c\n  you know im coming through\n  and when you know im coming thru\n  you know what im guna do,\n  i never said the battle with me\n  would be impossable.\n  i just think its highly muthafuckin improbable.\n  you talking to a nigga who can split molecules to sub-atomic particales strong enough to stop a bull body slap a two ax's and drop a mule, urinating rocket fuel freestyling over gospl tunes. rhymes by the thousands rhymes for hours i can kick a rhyme longa then your whole album\n  kick boxer beating da shit outta nigga proper\n  i beat till they holla\n  beat em till the cops beating niggas till they have seizures\n  beating til they start screaming,\n  like fax machines when they start receiving\n  beat em till my own hands start bleedin'\n  beat em till their lungs stop breathin' and their hearts stop beatin'from 12 am till 12pm in the evenin' with 3, 15 min breaks in between them\n  good jesus, thats a real west indian beatin'\n  thats what you get fo fuckin wit this lyrical demon my blood streams been\n  contaminated for eons\n  i got cast out of hevean for treasen\n  got cast out of the garden of edon for letting the reptilain beast in got locked up for a d.u.i\n  and speedin'\n  a whole leagon will have decent mc's to get released when they spit 100 bars for their freedom, see im much to nice to compete with to nice to flow over beats with to nice to hold a mic wit on some decent hurcules shit i cold flip and start to punch trees till they leaveless, inhale with to 2 real deep breaths, hold my breath till the whole planet sufficates then release it (release it)\n  Yo you aint as cold as us\n  you ad bold as us\n  when you get thrown to the wolves\n  you get thrown to us!\n  cuz we rollin' rough when the soljah's rush\n  either you roll wit us or get blown to dust\n  Yo you aint as cold as us or as bold as us\n  when we in the war zone we got the chrome wit us\n  cuz we rollin rough when the soljahs rush,(ashes to ashes dust to dust) either you roll wit us or get blown to dust.\n\n  Yo yo yo, now for the last couple of months things been real quiet\n  becz i aint heard shit worth buyin'\n  and my lyrics come from my inna spirit???\n  faster then 12 cyclinder engines with nytrogene in them.\n  faster then f1 macmarin pistons\n  fast enough to give your brain an aneurysm\n  because you niggas are slower then a fat bitches\n  metabolism.\n  the way i be rippin apart the competion when i be spitin'\n  the name canibus might as well be canabulism.\n  show me a man that cant feel em\n  ill show you a man that will grab him by the neck and but his head\n  to the fan\n  on the ceiling\n  sumtin real banned from televsion shit\n  drop hi m off the top of the buildin and let the news film him\n  ill hop in front of the cameras\n  and tell em how im feeling\n  ill tell how i feel tha hip hop should deal wit it.\n  tell him im tired of these state rappaz is 90 percent of rappas kick is subject matterless not orginal but blasphemous just a bunch of the same characters shooting the same videos its embarrassin'using the same formulas to have a hit\n  using the same acters and actresses same shit\n  different laxative face it nigga ya wack as shit\n  im snatchin ya mike\n  ill make you run for ya life\n  chill during the day light\n  to track you at night my global position is satelites i got a infored lens to detect you bodies farahight\n  where ever you go\n  ill track you thru hell sleet or snow\n  ill track you till you ceaser grows into an afo\n  or till your???\n  track till your shoe sole develpoe holes and you get corns on your toes\n  till your teeth develope halitosis\n  but you been going so long without deoterent you dont even notice muthafucka!\n  x2\n"},{"id":14572035,"name":"The C-Quel","trackName":"The C-Quel","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":215.666939,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"-- Synced by NoMan --\n* Various Canibus samples *\nYea, it's the C-Quel, the C-Quel, Yo!\n\nI'm hardcore from the nappy follicles in my pores\nTo every single pore in my skull\nHard from my mouth to my jaws\nFrom my jaws to my torso where my organs are stored\nAnd from my balls in my draws to the floor\nI pray to God they hurry up and start the third World War\nSo I can start World War IV and murder us all\nI don't give a fuck if you rich or you poor\nDon't give a fuck if you got ya' picture in The Source or Forbes\nI don't give a fuck who won an award\nOn stage tryna' thank God I'll chop they tongue off with a sword\nLet they blood pour all on the floor\nIf it ain't a cordless, they gettin' punched in the jaw and hung wit' the cord\nI'll leave they corpse stiff as a board\nLike frozen meat tryna' thaw then bury em under the morgue\nGettin' in my way is like jumpin' in front of a car\nBreakin' the sound barrier, that means the car is in front of the horn\nBy the time you hear it blowin', it's too late to respond\nBy the time you feel it hit you, I'm gone\nI'll send ya' to hell where you belong\nSo by the time ya' body hits the floor\nYa' spirit won't be in it no more\nWho could flow for 4 minutes or more\nWithout breaks, without mistakes, without flaws\nI got millions of styles and I mastered em all\nA metaphor matador fast enough to make the bull charge and crash in the wall\n\n* Various Canibus samples *\nAn emcee so ill I got AIDS scared to catch me\"\n\nCanibus is what the hardcore niggas is waitin' on\nDebatin' on, what the fuck is takin' so long\nWell I'm here now, verbal ass whippin's bout to get shared out\nWack niggas bout to get aired out\nFaggot niggas get they ass teared out\nGrab a wise man by his goatee and rip his fuckin' beard out\nCold beat a nigga's ass like Stout\nThen bust a shot in the muthafuckin' courtroom and watch it clear out\nA hundred thousand mile warranty, metaphorically\nI'll use a hundred thousand styles and murder you orally\nI took a lion on tour wit' me, made him respect authority\nSmacked him in the head for tryna' roar at me\nLyrics got my undivided loyalty\nAnd there ain't nothin' on this God damn planet that's worth more to me\nIn the name of Hip-Hop niggas could corner me, torture me\nSlice me then stitch me up like embroidery\nWay back before gold-plated male and female\nRCA jacks was used for crystal clear playback\nI was tryna' blaze ADATS, and if a nigga said my demo was wack?\nI'd beat his ass and took my tape back\n\"Yeah, nigga\" (smack) \"What? Yeah nigga take that\"\nAnybody get outta' line, get they face slapped quick fast\nThe Can-I-Bus'll buss yo' ass\nThen I'll bust you wit' a shotgun blast\nIt's not fun so I don't laugh\nTo me this rap shit is as serious as, the death of a loved one\nYou know how you be feelin' sad\nThat's how I feel when I grab the microphone but niggas don't understand\nCanibus is unequivocally the illest killin' machine in the industry\nFor the 20th century\nTrapped in a max security building\nSufferin' from a severe illness called brilliance\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.05] -- Synced by NoMan --\n[00:08.83] * Various Canibus samples *\n[00:47.43] Yea, it's the C-Quel, the C-Quel, Yo!\n\n[00:50.43] I'm hardcore from the nappy follicles in my pores\n[00:52.83] To every single pore in my skull\n[00:54.50] Hard from my mouth to my jaws\n[00:56.02] From my jaws to my torso where my organs are stored\n[00:58.58] And from my balls in my draws to the floor\n[01:00.54] I pray to God they hurry up and start the third World War\n[01:03.11] So I can start World War IV and murder us all\n[01:05.59] I don't give a fuck if you rich or you poor\n[01:07.74] Don't give a fuck if you got ya' picture in The Source or Forbes\n[01:10.67] I don't give a fuck who won an award\n[01:12.63] On stage tryna' thank God I'll chop they tongue off with a sword\n[01:15.83] Let they blood pour all on the floor\n[01:17.71] If it ain't a cordless, they gettin' punched in the jaw and hung wit' the cord\n[01:21.24] I'll leave they corpse stiff as a board\n[01:22.87] Like frozen meat tryna' thaw then bury em under the morgue\n[01:25.94] Gettin' in my way is like jumpin' in front of a car\n[01:28.51] Breakin' the sound barrier, that means the car is in front of the horn\n[01:31.67] By the time you hear it blowin', it's too late to respond\n[01:34.19] By the time you feel it hit you, I'm gone\n[01:36.19] I'll send ya' to hell where you belong\n[01:38.02] So by the time ya' body hits the floor\n[01:39.67] Ya' spirit won't be in it no more\n[01:41.35] Who could flow for 4 minutes or more\n[01:43.19] Without breaks, without mistakes, without flaws\n[01:45.35] I got millions of styles and I mastered em all\n[01:47.63] A metaphor matador fast enough to make the bull charge and crash in the wall\n\n[01:51.71] * Various Canibus samples *\n[02:09.92] An emcee so ill I got AIDS scared to catch me\"\n\n[02:12.20] Canibus is what the hardcore niggas is waitin' on\n[02:14.64] Debatin' on, what the fuck is takin' so long\n[02:16.88] Well I'm here now, verbal ass whippin's bout to get shared out\n[02:19.92] Wack niggas bout to get aired out\n[02:22.08] Faggot niggas get they ass teared out\n[02:23.96] Grab a wise man by his goatee and rip his fuckin' beard out\n[02:27.20] Cold beat a nigga's ass like Stout\n[02:29.05] Then bust a shot in the muthafuckin' courtroom and watch it clear out\n[02:32.28] A hundred thousand mile warranty, metaphorically\n[02:35.16] I'll use a hundred thousand styles and murder you orally\n[02:37.64] I took a lion on tour wit' me, made him respect authority\n[02:40.88] Smacked him in the head for tryna' roar at me\n[02:42.79] Lyrics got my undivided loyalty\n[02:44.64] And there ain't nothin' on this God damn planet that's worth more to me\n[02:47.92] In the name of Hip-Hop niggas could corner me, torture me\n[02:50.76] Slice me then stitch me up like embroidery\n[02:52.91] Way back before gold-plated male and female\n[02:55.53] RCA jacks was used for crystal clear playback\n[02:58.04] I was tryna' blaze ADATS, and if a nigga said my demo was wack?\n[03:01.48] I'd beat his ass and took my tape back\n[03:03.29] \"Yeah, nigga\" (smack) \"What? Yeah nigga take that\"\n[03:05.73] Anybody get outta' line, get they face slapped quick fast\n[03:09.04] The Can-I-Bus'll buss yo' ass\n[03:11.12] Then I'll bust you wit' a shotgun blast\n[03:13.00] It's not fun so I don't laugh\n[03:14.88] To me this rap shit is as serious as, the death of a loved one\n[03:18.45] You know how you be feelin' sad\n[03:19.96] That's how I feel when I grab the microphone but niggas don't understand\n[03:23.24] Canibus is unequivocally the illest killin' machine in the industry\n[03:27.09] For the 20th century\n[03:28.53] Trapped in a max security building\n[03:30.96] Sufferin' from a severe illness called brilliance\n[03:34.90] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: The C-Quel\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 215667\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: -- Synced by NoMan --\n  start_ms: 50\n  end_ms: 8830\n- text: '* Various Canibus samples *'\n  start_ms: 8830\n  end_ms: 47430\n- text: Yea, it's the C-Quel, the C-Quel, Yo!\n  start_ms: 47430\n  end_ms: 50430\n- text: I'm hardcore from the nappy follicles in my pores\n  start_ms: 50430\n  end_ms: 52830\n- text: To every single pore in my skull\n  start_ms: 52830\n  end_ms: 54500\n- text: Hard from my mouth to my jaws\n  start_ms: 54500\n  end_ms: 56020\n- text: From my jaws to my torso where my organs are stored\n  start_ms: 56020\n  end_ms: 58580\n- text: And from my balls in my draws to the floor\n  start_ms: 58580\n  end_ms: 60540\n- text: I pray to God they hurry up and start the third World War\n  start_ms: 60540\n  end_ms: 63110\n- text: So I can start World War IV and murder us all\n  start_ms: 63110\n  end_ms: 65590\n- text: I don't give a fuck if you rich or you poor\n  start_ms: 65590\n  end_ms: 67740\n- text: Don't give a fuck if you got ya' picture in The Source or Forbes\n  start_ms: 67740\n  end_ms: 70670\n- text: I don't give a fuck who won an award\n  start_ms: 70670\n  end_ms: 72630\n- text: On stage tryna' thank God I'll chop they tongue off with a sword\n  start_ms: 72630\n  end_ms: 75830\n- text: Let they blood pour all on the floor\n  start_ms: 75830\n  end_ms: 77710\n- text: If it ain't a cordless, they gettin' punched in the jaw and hung wit' the cord\n  start_ms: 77710\n  end_ms: 81240\n- text: I'll leave they corpse stiff as a board\n  start_ms: 81240\n  end_ms: 82870\n- text: Like frozen meat tryna' thaw then bury em under the morgue\n  start_ms: 82870\n  end_ms: 85940\n- text: Gettin' in my way is like jumpin' in front of a car\n  start_ms: 85940\n  end_ms: 88510\n- text: Breakin' the sound barrier, that means the car is in front of the horn\n  start_ms: 88510\n  end_ms: 91670\n- text: By the time you hear it blowin', it's too late to respond\n  start_ms: 91670\n  end_ms: 94190\n- text: By the time you feel it hit you, I'm gone\n  start_ms: 94190\n  end_ms: 96190\n- text: I'll send ya' to hell where you belong\n  start_ms: 96190\n  end_ms: 98020\n- text: So by the time ya' body hits the floor\n  start_ms: 98020\n  end_ms: 99670\n- text: Ya' spirit won't be in it no more\n  start_ms: 99670\n  end_ms: 101350\n- text: Who could flow for 4 minutes or more\n  start_ms: 101350\n  end_ms: 103190\n- text: Without breaks, without mistakes, without flaws\n  start_ms: 103190\n  end_ms: 105350\n- text: I got millions of styles and I mastered em all\n  start_ms: 105350\n  end_ms: 107630\n- text: A metaphor matador fast enough to make the bull charge and crash in the wall\n  start_ms: 107630\n  end_ms: 111710\n- text: '* Various Canibus samples *'\n  start_ms: 111710\n  end_ms: 129920\n- text: An emcee so ill I got AIDS scared to catch me\"\n  start_ms: 129920\n  end_ms: 132200\n- text: Canibus is what the hardcore niggas is waitin' on\n  start_ms: 132200\n  end_ms: 134640\n- text: Debatin' on, what the fuck is takin' so long\n  start_ms: 134640\n  end_ms: 136880\n- text: Well I'm here now, verbal ass whippin's bout to get shared out\n  start_ms: 136880\n  end_ms: 139920\n- text: Wack niggas bout to get aired out\n  start_ms: 139920\n  end_ms: 142080\n- text: Faggot niggas get they ass teared out\n  start_ms: 142080\n  end_ms: 143960\n- text: Grab a wise man by his goatee and rip his fuckin' beard out\n  start_ms: 143960\n  end_ms: 147200\n- text: Cold beat a nigga's ass like Stout\n  start_ms: 147200\n  end_ms: 149050\n- text: Then bust a shot in the muthafuckin' courtroom and watch it clear out\n  start_ms: 149050\n  end_ms: 152280\n- text: A hundred thousand mile warranty, metaphorically\n  start_ms: 152280\n  end_ms: 155160\n- text: I'll use a hundred thousand styles and murder you orally\n  start_ms: 155160\n  end_ms: 157640\n- text: I took a lion on tour wit' me, made him respect authority\n  start_ms: 157640\n  end_ms: 160880\n- text: Smacked him in the head for tryna' roar at me\n  start_ms: 160880\n  end_ms: 162790\n- text: Lyrics got my undivided loyalty\n  start_ms: 162790\n  end_ms: 164640\n- text: And there ain't nothin' on this God damn planet that's worth more to me\n  start_ms: 164640\n  end_ms: 167920\n- text: In the name of Hip-Hop niggas could corner me, torture me\n  start_ms: 167920\n  end_ms: 170760\n- text: Slice me then stitch me up like embroidery\n  start_ms: 170760\n  end_ms: 172910\n- text: Way back before gold-plated male and female\n  start_ms: 172910\n  end_ms: 175530\n- text: RCA jacks was used for crystal clear playback\n  start_ms: 175530\n  end_ms: 178040\n- text: I was tryna' blaze ADATS, and if a nigga said my demo was wack?\n  start_ms: 178040\n  end_ms: 181480\n- text: I'd beat his ass and took my tape back\n  start_ms: 181480\n  end_ms: 183290\n- text: '\"Yeah, nigga\" (smack) \"What? Yeah nigga take that\"'\n  start_ms: 183290\n  end_ms: 185730\n- text: Anybody get outta' line, get they face slapped quick fast\n  start_ms: 185730\n  end_ms: 189040\n- text: The Can-I-Bus'll buss yo' ass\n  start_ms: 189040\n  end_ms: 191120\n- text: Then I'll bust you wit' a shotgun blast\n  start_ms: 191120\n  end_ms: 193000\n- text: It's not fun so I don't laugh\n  start_ms: 193000\n  end_ms: 194880\n- text: To me this rap shit is as serious as, the death of a loved one\n  start_ms: 194880\n  end_ms: 198450\n- text: You know how you be feelin' sad\n  start_ms: 198450\n  end_ms: 199960\n- text: That's how I feel when I grab the microphone but niggas don't understand\n  start_ms: 199960\n  end_ms: 203240\n- text: Canibus is unequivocally the illest killin' machine in the industry\n  start_ms: 203240\n  end_ms: 207090\n- text: For the 20th century\n  start_ms: 207090\n  end_ms: 208530\n- text: Trapped in a max security building\n  start_ms: 208530\n  end_ms: 210960\n- text: Sufferin' from a severe illness called brilliance\n  start_ms: 210960\n  end_ms: 214900\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 214900\nplain: |\n  -- Synced by NoMan --\n  * Various Canibus samples *\n  Yea, it's the C-Quel, the C-Quel, Yo!\n\n  I'm hardcore from the nappy follicles in my pores\n  To every single pore in my skull\n  Hard from my mouth to my jaws\n  From my jaws to my torso where my organs are stored\n  And from my balls in my draws to the floor\n  I pray to God they hurry up and start the third World War\n  So I can start World War IV and murder us all\n  I don't give a fuck if you rich or you poor\n  Don't give a fuck if you got ya' picture in The Source or Forbes\n  I don't give a fuck who won an award\n  On stage tryna' thank God I'll chop they tongue off with a sword\n  Let they blood pour all on the floor\n  If it ain't a cordless, they gettin' punched in the jaw and hung wit' the cord\n  I'll leave they corpse stiff as a board\n  Like frozen meat tryna' thaw then bury em under the morgue\n  Gettin' in my way is like jumpin' in front of a car\n  Breakin' the sound barrier, that means the car is in front of the horn\n  By the time you hear it blowin', it's too late to respond\n  By the time you feel it hit you, I'm gone\n  I'll send ya' to hell where you belong\n  So by the time ya' body hits the floor\n  Ya' spirit won't be in it no more\n  Who could flow for 4 minutes or more\n  Without breaks, without mistakes, without flaws\n  I got millions of styles and I mastered em all\n  A metaphor matador fast enough to make the bull charge and crash in the wall\n\n  * Various Canibus samples *\n  An emcee so ill I got AIDS scared to catch me\"\n\n  Canibus is what the hardcore niggas is waitin' on\n  Debatin' on, what the fuck is takin' so long\n  Well I'm here now, verbal ass whippin's bout to get shared out\n  Wack niggas bout to get aired out\n  Faggot niggas get they ass teared out\n  Grab a wise man by his goatee and rip his fuckin' beard out\n  Cold beat a nigga's ass like Stout\n  Then bust a shot in the muthafuckin' courtroom and watch it clear out\n  A hundred thousand mile warranty, metaphorically\n  I'll use a hundred thousand styles and murder you orally\n  I took a lion on tour wit' me, made him respect authority\n  Smacked him in the head for tryna' roar at me\n  Lyrics got my undivided loyalty\n  And there ain't nothin' on this God damn planet that's worth more to me\n  In the name of Hip-Hop niggas could corner me, torture me\n  Slice me then stitch me up like embroidery\n  Way back before gold-plated male and female\n  RCA jacks was used for crystal clear playback\n  I was tryna' blaze ADATS, and if a nigga said my demo was wack?\n  I'd beat his ass and took my tape back\n  \"Yeah, nigga\" (smack) \"What? Yeah nigga take that\"\n  Anybody get outta' line, get they face slapped quick fast\n  The Can-I-Bus'll buss yo' ass\n  Then I'll bust you wit' a shotgun blast\n  It's not fun so I don't laugh\n  To me this rap shit is as serious as, the death of a loved one\n  You know how you be feelin' sad\n  That's how I feel when I grab the microphone but niggas don't understand\n  Canibus is unequivocally the illest killin' machine in the industry\n  For the 20th century\n  Trapped in a max security building\n  Sufferin' from a severe illness called brilliance\n"},{"id":32064296,"name":"Mic-Nificent","trackName":"Mic-Nificent","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":3.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Canibus)\nYo, sitting on chrome, sitting on low-pro twenty-inch Firestones\nGripping the road, with the wickedest flow\n'Bis is a pro, I zigzag through a sly-loam\nAccelerating, and decelerating in and out of the cones\nPoisonous poems travel through Walkman headphones\nInto your dome, osteoporosis your bones\nWho's the nicest nigga you know, in the year two-triple oh\nSpit turn into icicles in mid air and slit your throat\nDrain your carcass dry, rip out your heart bitch\nI write rhymes using your blood for my ink-cartridges\nPaleo-anthropologist polish the bones of rap artists\nAfter I dip them in hydrochloric waters\nCan-I-Bus as the seams bursting, perfect\nEveryday the Earth spins, I write verses\nMy sole purpose as a verbalist, is to make my words twist\nAnd connect them like letters when they in cursive\n\n(Canibus)\nI prey on them, I spray on them\nFirst nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\nI prey on them, I spray on them\nFirst nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n\nI prey on them, I spray on them\nFirst nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\nI prey on them, I spray on them\nFirst nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n\n(Canibus)\nYo, Yo\nI'm faster than leopards running across the vast deserts\nAt twenty-two yards per second, to catch me the daily delicatessen\nWith thirty-minutes to eat them, forty minutes to digest them\nAnd fifty-minutes for it to pass through my intestines\nSo ask yourself a question; Can the Canibus rhyme?\nIs a fucking porcupine half-swine?\nNo time to make up your mind, you want to run or die?\nClip you while you running by and trip you up from behind\nMy rhymes confuse niggas like someone trying to gangbang\nWearing a blue shirt, and red pants, throwing up signs with they left-hands\nStanding out on the corner of wetlands, with a confederate flag for a headband\nGod damn eggplants, niggas getting me vexed man\n'Cause I'm surrounded by garbage like Fred Sav\nAnd I can't seem to get away from it\nI dreamt that I stabbed leviathan through the stomach, and ate from it\nIn my past life, I slayed hundreds, in the life before that\nI played trumpets to warn you that I was coming\nThere's one billion ways to die and I've already tried\nNine-hundred million, nine-hundred and ninety-nine\nWhen I aim and fire my rhymes\nLike a hundred cannonballs flying, striking you one at a time, in a parallel line\nWhile the art of emceeing is steady dying\nThat nigga Can-I-Bus is still in his prime\n\n(Canibus)\nI prey on them, I spray on them\nFirst nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\nI prey on them, I spray on them\nFirst nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n\nI prey on them, I spray on them\nFirst nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\nI prey on them, I spray on them\nFirst nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n\n(Canibus)\nClub Dodge; I wrecked that, Limelight; searched that\nEnvy; I murdered that, Club Soho; Never heard of that\nWetlands; dried it up, Cheaters; inside the club\nFired up, looking for a chicken to tie it up\nClub New-York; I heard it's hot there, beats be rocking there\nToo many niggas be getting stabbed and shot there\nSpeed; I slowed it down, the Tunnel; they hold it down\nHome of the underground; why they always close it down?\nCentury Club; the hot shit, the House of Blues; I rocked it\nOne Twelve A.T.L.; that's the dirty-South bomb shit\nSynagogue; yeah I be there, Caribbean City; roll deep there\nLyricist Lounge; they be some real emcees there","syncedLyrics":"[00:10.88] (Canibus)\n[00:19.01] Yo, sitting on chrome, sitting on low-pro twenty-inch Firestones\n[00:22.63] Gripping the road, with the wickedest flow\n[00:24.44] ‘Bis is a pro, I zigzag through a sly-loam\n[00:27.16] Accelerating, and decelerating in and out of the cones\n[00:29.89] Poisonous poems travel through Walkman headphones\n[00:31.70] Into your dome, osteoporosis your bones\n[00:34.42] Who's the nicest nigga you know, in the year two-triple oh\n[00:37.13] Spit turn into icicles in mid air and slit your throat\n[00:39.87] Drain your carcass dry, rip out your heart bitch\n[00:42.60] I write rhymes using your blood for my ink-cartridges\n[00:45.31] Paleo-anthropologist polish the bones of rap artists\n[00:48.03] After I dip them in hydrochloric waters\n[00:49.84] Can-I-Bus as the seams bursting, perfect\n[00:52.57] Everyday the Earth spins, I write verses\n[00:55.30] My sole purpose as a verbalist, is to make my words twist\n[00:58.01] And connect them like letters when they in cursive\n[00:59.82] (Canibus)\n[01:00.72] I prey on them, I spray on them\n[01:02.53] First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n[01:05.23] I prey on them, I spray on them\n[01:07.94] First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n[01:09.77] I prey on them, I spray on them\n[01:12.51] First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n[01:15.21] I prey on them, I spray on them\n[01:17.93] First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n[01:18.83] (Canibus)\n[01:19.74] Yo, Yo\n[01:20.66] I'm faster than leopards running across the vast deserts\n[01:22.47] At twenty-two yards per second, to catch me the daily delicatessen\n[01:25.18] With thirty-minutes to eat them, forty minutes to digest them\n[01:27.89] And fifty-minutes for it to pass through my intestines\n[01:30.63] So ask yourself a question; Can the Canibus rhyme?\n[01:33.35] Is a fucking porcupine half-swine?\n[01:35.17] No time to make up your mind, you want to run or die?\n[01:37.90] Clip you while you running by and trip you up from behind\n[01:40.61] My rhymes confuse niggas like someone trying to gangbang\n[01:43.31] Wearing a blue shirt, and red pants, throwing up signs with they left-hands\n[01:46.93] Standing out on the corner of wetlands, with a confederate flag for a headband\n[01:50.56] God damn eggplants, niggas getting me vexed man\n[01:53.30] ‘Cause I'm surrounded by garbage like Fred Sav\n[01:56.01] And I can't seem to get away from it\n[01:57.82] I dreamt that I stabbed leviathan through the stomach, and ate from it\n[02:00.53] In my past life, I slayed hundreds, in the life before that\n[02:03.26] I played trumpets to warn you that I was coming\n[02:05.99] There's one billion ways to die and I've already tried\n[02:08.71] Nine-hundred million, nine-hundred and ninety-nine\n[02:10.52] When I aim and fire my rhymes\n[02:12.33] Like a hundred cannonballs flying, striking you one at a time, in a parallel line\n[02:15.95] While the art of emceeing is steady dying\n[02:18.69] That nigga Can-I-Bus is still in his prime\n[02:21.41] (Canibus)\n[02:22.31] I prey on them, I spray on them\n[02:23.21] First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n[02:25.92] I prey on them, I spray on them\n[02:28.63] First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n[02:31.37] I prey on them, I spray on them\n[02:33.19] First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n[02:35.89] I prey on them, I spray on them\n[02:38.60] First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n[02:40.41] (Canibus)\n[02:41.31] Club Dodge; I wrecked that, Limelight; searched that\n[02:44.03] Envy; I murdered that, Club Soho; Never heard of that\n[02:45.84] Wetlands; dried it up, Cheaters; inside the club\n[02:48.58] Fired up, looking for a chicken to tie it up\n[02:51.31] Club New-York; I heard it's hot there, beats be rocking there\n[02:54.02] Too many niggas be getting stabbed and shot there\n[02:55.82] Speed; I slowed it down, the Tunnel; they hold it down\n[02:59.51] Home of the underground; why they always close it down?\n[03:01.31] Century Club; the hot shit, the House of Blues; I rocked it\n[03:04.03] One Twelve A.T.L.; that's the dirty-South bomb shit\n[03:06.74] Synagogue; yeah I be there, Caribbean City; roll deep there\n[03:09.49] Lyricist Lounge; they be some real emcees there\n[03:12.62] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Mic-Nificent\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 3000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: (Canibus)\n  start_ms: 10880\n  end_ms: 19010\n- text: Yo, sitting on chrome, sitting on low-pro twenty-inch Firestones\n  start_ms: 19010\n  end_ms: 22630\n- text: Gripping the road, with the wickedest flow\n  start_ms: 22630\n  end_ms: 24440\n- text: ‘Bis is a pro, I zigzag through a sly-loam\n  start_ms: 24440\n  end_ms: 27160\n- text: Accelerating, and decelerating in and out of the cones\n  start_ms: 27160\n  end_ms: 29890\n- text: Poisonous poems travel through Walkman headphones\n  start_ms: 29890\n  end_ms: 31700\n- text: Into your dome, osteoporosis your bones\n  start_ms: 31700\n  end_ms: 34420\n- text: Who's the nicest nigga you know, in the year two-triple oh\n  start_ms: 34420\n  end_ms: 37130\n- text: Spit turn into icicles in mid air and slit your throat\n  start_ms: 37130\n  end_ms: 39870\n- text: Drain your carcass dry, rip out your heart bitch\n  start_ms: 39870\n  end_ms: 42600\n- text: I write rhymes using your blood for my ink-cartridges\n  start_ms: 42600\n  end_ms: 45310\n- text: Paleo-anthropologist polish the bones of rap artists\n  start_ms: 45310\n  end_ms: 48030\n- text: After I dip them in hydrochloric waters\n  start_ms: 48030\n  end_ms: 49840\n- text: Can-I-Bus as the seams bursting, perfect\n  start_ms: 49840\n  end_ms: 52570\n- text: Everyday the Earth spins, I write verses\n  start_ms: 52570\n  end_ms: 55300\n- text: My sole purpose as a verbalist, is to make my words twist\n  start_ms: 55300\n  end_ms: 58010\n- text: And connect them like letters when they in cursive\n  start_ms: 58010\n  end_ms: 59820\n- text: (Canibus)\n  start_ms: 59820\n  end_ms: 60720\n- text: I prey on them, I spray on them\n  start_ms: 60720\n  end_ms: 62530\n- text: First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  start_ms: 62530\n  end_ms: 65230\n- text: I prey on them, I spray on them\n  start_ms: 65230\n  end_ms: 67940\n- text: First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  start_ms: 67940\n  end_ms: 69770\n- text: I prey on them, I spray on them\n  start_ms: 69770\n  end_ms: 72510\n- text: First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  start_ms: 72510\n  end_ms: 75210\n- text: I prey on them, I spray on them\n  start_ms: 75210\n  end_ms: 77930\n- text: First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  start_ms: 77930\n  end_ms: 78830\n- text: (Canibus)\n  start_ms: 78830\n  end_ms: 79740\n- text: Yo, Yo\n  start_ms: 79740\n  end_ms: 80660\n- text: I'm faster than leopards running across the vast deserts\n  start_ms: 80660\n  end_ms: 82470\n- text: At twenty-two yards per second, to catch me the daily delicatessen\n  start_ms: 82470\n  end_ms: 85180\n- text: With thirty-minutes to eat them, forty minutes to digest them\n  start_ms: 85180\n  end_ms: 87890\n- text: And fifty-minutes for it to pass through my intestines\n  start_ms: 87890\n  end_ms: 90630\n- text: So ask yourself a question; Can the Canibus rhyme?\n  start_ms: 90630\n  end_ms: 93350\n- text: Is a fucking porcupine half-swine?\n  start_ms: 93350\n  end_ms: 95170\n- text: No time to make up your mind, you want to run or die?\n  start_ms: 95170\n  end_ms: 97900\n- text: Clip you while you running by and trip you up from behind\n  start_ms: 97900\n  end_ms: 100610\n- text: My rhymes confuse niggas like someone trying to gangbang\n  start_ms: 100610\n  end_ms: 103310\n- text: Wearing a blue shirt, and red pants, throwing up signs with they left-hands\n  start_ms: 103310\n  end_ms: 106930\n- text: Standing out on the corner of wetlands, with a confederate flag for a headband\n  start_ms: 106930\n  end_ms: 110560\n- text: God damn eggplants, niggas getting me vexed man\n  start_ms: 110560\n  end_ms: 113300\n- text: ‘Cause I'm surrounded by garbage like Fred Sav\n  start_ms: 113300\n  end_ms: 116010\n- text: And I can't seem to get away from it\n  start_ms: 116010\n  end_ms: 117820\n- text: I dreamt that I stabbed leviathan through the stomach, and ate from it\n  start_ms: 117820\n  end_ms: 120530\n- text: In my past life, I slayed hundreds, in the life before that\n  start_ms: 120530\n  end_ms: 123260\n- text: I played trumpets to warn you that I was coming\n  start_ms: 123260\n  end_ms: 125990\n- text: There's one billion ways to die and I've already tried\n  start_ms: 125990\n  end_ms: 128710\n- text: Nine-hundred million, nine-hundred and ninety-nine\n  start_ms: 128710\n  end_ms: 130520\n- text: When I aim and fire my rhymes\n  start_ms: 130520\n  end_ms: 132330\n- text: Like a hundred cannonballs flying, striking you one at a time, in a parallel line\n  start_ms: 132330\n  end_ms: 135950\n- text: While the art of emceeing is steady dying\n  start_ms: 135950\n  end_ms: 138690\n- text: That nigga Can-I-Bus is still in his prime\n  start_ms: 138690\n  end_ms: 141410\n- text: (Canibus)\n  start_ms: 141410\n  end_ms: 142310\n- text: I prey on them, I spray on them\n  start_ms: 142310\n  end_ms: 143210\n- text: First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  start_ms: 143210\n  end_ms: 145920\n- text: I prey on them, I spray on them\n  start_ms: 145920\n  end_ms: 148630\n- text: First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  start_ms: 148630\n  end_ms: 151370\n- text: I prey on them, I spray on them\n  start_ms: 151370\n  end_ms: 153190\n- text: First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  start_ms: 153190\n  end_ms: 155890\n- text: I prey on them, I spray on them\n  start_ms: 155890\n  end_ms: 158600\n- text: First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  start_ms: 158600\n  end_ms: 160410\n- text: (Canibus)\n  start_ms: 160410\n  end_ms: 161310\n- text: Club Dodge; I wrecked that, Limelight; searched that\n  start_ms: 161310\n  end_ms: 164030\n- text: Envy; I murdered that, Club Soho; Never heard of that\n  start_ms: 164030\n  end_ms: 165840\n- text: Wetlands; dried it up, Cheaters; inside the club\n  start_ms: 165840\n  end_ms: 168580\n- text: Fired up, looking for a chicken to tie it up\n  start_ms: 168580\n  end_ms: 171310\n- text: Club New-York; I heard it's hot there, beats be rocking there\n  start_ms: 171310\n  end_ms: 174020\n- text: Too many niggas be getting stabbed and shot there\n  start_ms: 174020\n  end_ms: 175820\n- text: Speed; I slowed it down, the Tunnel; they hold it down\n  start_ms: 175820\n  end_ms: 179510\n- text: Home of the underground; why they always close it down?\n  start_ms: 179510\n  end_ms: 181310\n- text: Century Club; the hot shit, the House of Blues; I rocked it\n  start_ms: 181310\n  end_ms: 184030\n- text: One Twelve A.T.L.; that's the dirty-South bomb shit\n  start_ms: 184030\n  end_ms: 186740\n- text: Synagogue; yeah I be there, Caribbean City; roll deep there\n  start_ms: 186740\n  end_ms: 189490\n- text: Lyricist Lounge; they be some real emcees there\n  start_ms: 189490\n  end_ms: 192620\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 192620\nplain: |-\n  (Canibus)\n  Yo, sitting on chrome, sitting on low-pro twenty-inch Firestones\n  Gripping the road, with the wickedest flow\n  'Bis is a pro, I zigzag through a sly-loam\n  Accelerating, and decelerating in and out of the cones\n  Poisonous poems travel through Walkman headphones\n  Into your dome, osteoporosis your bones\n  Who's the nicest nigga you know, in the year two-triple oh\n  Spit turn into icicles in mid air and slit your throat\n  Drain your carcass dry, rip out your heart bitch\n  I write rhymes using your blood for my ink-cartridges\n  Paleo-anthropologist polish the bones of rap artists\n  After I dip them in hydrochloric waters\n  Can-I-Bus as the seams bursting, perfect\n  Everyday the Earth spins, I write verses\n  My sole purpose as a verbalist, is to make my words twist\n  And connect them like letters when they in cursive\n\n  (Canibus)\n  I prey on them, I spray on them\n  First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  I prey on them, I spray on them\n  First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n\n  I prey on them, I spray on them\n  First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  I prey on them, I spray on them\n  First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n\n  (Canibus)\n  Yo, Yo\n  I'm faster than leopards running across the vast deserts\n  At twenty-two yards per second, to catch me the daily delicatessen\n  With thirty-minutes to eat them, forty minutes to digest them\n  And fifty-minutes for it to pass through my intestines\n  So ask yourself a question; Can the Canibus rhyme?\n  Is a fucking porcupine half-swine?\n  No time to make up your mind, you want to run or die?\n  Clip you while you running by and trip you up from behind\n  My rhymes confuse niggas like someone trying to gangbang\n  Wearing a blue shirt, and red pants, throwing up signs with they left-hands\n  Standing out on the corner of wetlands, with a confederate flag for a headband\n  God damn eggplants, niggas getting me vexed man\n  'Cause I'm surrounded by garbage like Fred Sav\n  And I can't seem to get away from it\n  I dreamt that I stabbed leviathan through the stomach, and ate from it\n  In my past life, I slayed hundreds, in the life before that\n  I played trumpets to warn you that I was coming\n  There's one billion ways to die and I've already tried\n  Nine-hundred million, nine-hundred and ninety-nine\n  When I aim and fire my rhymes\n  Like a hundred cannonballs flying, striking you one at a time, in a parallel line\n  While the art of emceeing is steady dying\n  That nigga Can-I-Bus is still in his prime\n\n  (Canibus)\n  I prey on them, I spray on them\n  First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  I prey on them, I spray on them\n  First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n\n  I prey on them, I spray on them\n  First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n  I prey on them, I spray on them\n  First nigga to violate, I regulate without warning\n\n  (Canibus)\n  Club Dodge; I wrecked that, Limelight; searched that\n  Envy; I murdered that, Club Soho; Never heard of that\n  Wetlands; dried it up, Cheaters; inside the club\n  Fired up, looking for a chicken to tie it up\n  Club New-York; I heard it's hot there, beats be rocking there\n  Too many niggas be getting stabbed and shot there\n  Speed; I slowed it down, the Tunnel; they hold it down\n  Home of the underground; why they always close it down?\n  Century Club; the hot shit, the House of Blues; I rocked it\n  One Twelve A.T.L.; that's the dirty-South bomb shit\n  Synagogue; yeah I be there, Caribbean City; roll deep there\n  Lyricist Lounge; they be some real emcees there\n"},{"id":17983241,"name":"Horsementality feat. Ras Kass, Killah Priest, Kurupt","trackName":"Horsementality feat. Ras Kass, Killah Priest, Kurupt","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":359.506667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"The beginnin of the end niggas!\nYeah, we gon' rock this shit forever\nThe alpha and the omega\nThe Canibus'll make your eyes redder\nFUCK y'all niggas talkin bout cheddar\nBrought to you by your millennium group, The Horsemen\nFour swordsmen\nFrom the land of the lost\nRas Kass, Killah Priest and Kurupt wit Can-i-bus\nThrow your 4's up or get your vocal cords cut MOTHERFUCKER\nWavin the four-four!\n\nI'm headless nigga, but I packs a big piece\nBlastin, they let assassins loose on the street\nMurderous notes I wrote, I lacerate throats\nI toss fire at niggas; motherfuck the six\nThe condos is supposed to be flip bricks\nAll thirty-nine of your bitches, pretty-ass bitch nigga\nI'll throw some fucked up kicks on\nNext is a small tank top, the spot, shot it up\nBeat you in your face wit a rope knotted up\nCause we don't give a fuck, the Headless Horseman Kurupt\nSee I'm off the wall nigga, Horsementality\nI'm a Horseman nigga and that's all I'll be\nSee I'm tired of the sparkly shit, niggas talkin shit\nI wanna see the streets dark again\nLet the heaters spark again, police callin all cars off\nPowerful as a motherfuckin Vulcan\nMy specialty is - poetically lyrically energetically\nUltramagnetically Dogg Pound pedigree\nFuck the shiny shit, fuck a bitch, only grimy shit\nDirty shit, holocaust in thirty-thirty shit\nMxyzptlk, assassin Sicilian\nKill women and kill men, and kidnap children\nFor vengeance in the name of the Horsemen\nSlice your Achilles tendon, the Headless Horseman\nAnd we abide by, the code of the streets\nThe makings of a real MC (C... C... C... C) yeah bitch!\n\nSo just abide by what you ride by\nCause we abide, by what we ride by\nJust abide by what you ride by\nCause we abide, by what we ride by\n\nWhat the fuck y'all done started; four apocalypic prophets\nAppearin outta floatin objects, wearin Middle Eastern garments\nLong trenchcoats with our hands in our pockets\nSlappin all you scary-ass rap artists, half-retarded\nSwear by our forefathers\nAnything you speak, think, or show will be disregarded\nThen I drag your frightened ass through the darkness\nBring you out the other side, as a carcass\nI'm heartless, regardless if y'all claim to be Gods or Goddess\nTo me, y'all all garbage; I see all of y'all as movin targets\nAnd my lyrics be the atomic rockets, cosmic vomic - spittin\nHittin at y'all Vietnam vets\nWit military arms and bombs strapped to our chest\nCastin meteor storms and comets\nNow who wanna make the next ras comment\nAnd be the first one left unconscious?\nAfter I squeeze your head like the Charmin\nFuck around and see a lightning bolt around your throat\nAnd squeeze till your head smoke from all the electric volts\nSatanically sacrifice your ass like an occult\nHave your seance inside of a dark synogogue\nWe was lyrically sent to y'all\nLike the Men of God to put a end to y'all\nI sniff bites like dogs to get the scent of y'all\nHorsemen, we be scorchin when we be walkin\nWith the power to put a graveyard inside a coffin\n\nLet's air it out like the breeze\nNow watch me do one-armed handstands\nAnd hang these N-U-T's over seven continents and seven seas\nStreets is Lebanese\nBe rockin Bulgari wrist watches and sniper marines\nMost of these MC's can't even rap, just model and go gold\nAnd get big-headed like they swallowin colleges\nI spit empty gravesites, rap stars fill 'em up\nYou what? Thirty, forty years old and still wack as fuck\nMe? I ain't even in my prime\nWhen I write my dopest rhyme, Western civilization declines\nCatch me hoppin off the A train in a New York state of mind\nBut I rep Westside, so I keep L.A. time\nThat's a three-hour difference;\nSo when my bitch is a six, she's really a nine\nIn seven days, she'd still be a dime\nCall me Blaze Skywalker hittin jugular veins\nCrack open your skull wit a paper weight and suck out your brains\nKiddo, I be doin my thug-thizzo for shizzo\nAnd the wife of a careless man is almost a widow\nSo what's happening, from P.I. to '99 Madden\nSince police be jackin blacks, I talk to pigs in Pig Latin:\nUck-fay ou-yay itch-bay et-lay a-igga-nay-play\nAnd free Keith Mur-ray (Horsemen)\n\nYo, yo, yo\nI kick a verse at six-hundred and sixty-six megahertz\nMake lightnin flash across the sky everytime I curse\nSix-hundred and sixty-six flashes\nGive out six-hundred and sixty-six lashes\nTo the backs of six-hundred and sixty-six Master of Ceremony has-beens\nPut a crown of thorns on whoever the king of rap is\nIf he's a *Catholic* I nail him to a crucifix\nThen I beat him till he's blackish-blueish\nThen perform acupuncture wit six-hundred and sixty-six toothpicks\nBeat em with two whips; with pieces of broken glass glued to it\nYour whole crew get spayed and neutered\nAs soon as I aim and shoot it, you get sprayed with bullets\nYour armored cars and your kevlar vest, is useless\nI'mma fuck all of you pussies like group sex\nYou get six-hundred and sixty-six years imprisonment\nFor bitin off another nigga's shit, you bitch\nYou got caught, now you on the other side of the law\nSnitchin on mad niggas in a soundproof court\nTo get some of your sentence knocked off (nah nigga) you wildin'\nBut you still be in Rikers Island getting forced to toss salads\nYou scared of that, wit a phobia fear of that\nI'mma tape it on the digital video DAT\nAnd send a copy to Miramax - leave you exposed\nTurn all the fiction to fact, so everybody will know\nYou a sucker-ass nigga, father-fuckin ass nigga\nThat got fucked in the ass by your father figure\n(No matter who?) I'll bruise and bash you, blast you\nAutograph you wit a bullet wound for a tattoo\nDeliverin mind blowin rhymes and poems\nControllin my tongue when I'm flowin like pilot controlled Boeings\nWhen I get bitten, I bite back, quicker than Tyson attacks\nI don't give a FUCK if I don't get my license back\nSo, take caution\nThe Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit a sword then\nGallop Northward\nMC's take caution\nThe Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit a sword then\nGallop Northward motherfuckers; yeah\n\nSo just abide by, what your ride by\nCause we abide by, what we ride by\nJust abide by, what your ride by\nCause we abide by what we ride by, HA!\n\nWavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Priest, don't hit me no more\"\nWavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Bis, don't hit me no more\"\nWavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Ras, don't hit me no more\"\nWavin the four-four! Aiyyo Kurupt, hit them niggas wit the hardcore!\n\nYeah nigga, I'm headless without thoughts\nWith my motherfuckin arms crossed\nI transform from a Dogg to a Horse\nTook over the whole race course\nTo throw the jockey off the saddle\nNow who the fuck really wanna battle?\nGot me a pistol, launch it off like a missile\nLet it whistle, they fall fuckin round wit the Dogg\nI'm a hog.","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Horsementality feat. Ras Kass, Killah Priest, Kurupt\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 359507\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  The beginnin of the end niggas!\n  Yeah, we gon' rock this shit forever\n  The alpha and the omega\n  The Canibus'll make your eyes redder\n  FUCK y'all niggas talkin bout cheddar\n  Brought to you by your millennium group, The Horsemen\n  Four swordsmen\n  From the land of the lost\n  Ras Kass, Killah Priest and Kurupt wit Can-i-bus\n  Throw your 4's up or get your vocal cords cut MOTHERFUCKER\n  Wavin the four-four!\n\n  I'm headless nigga, but I packs a big piece\n  Blastin, they let assassins loose on the street\n  Murderous notes I wrote, I lacerate throats\n  I toss fire at niggas; motherfuck the six\n  The condos is supposed to be flip bricks\n  All thirty-nine of your bitches, pretty-ass bitch nigga\n  I'll throw some fucked up kicks on\n  Next is a small tank top, the spot, shot it up\n  Beat you in your face wit a rope knotted up\n  Cause we don't give a fuck, the Headless Horseman Kurupt\n  See I'm off the wall nigga, Horsementality\n  I'm a Horseman nigga and that's all I'll be\n  See I'm tired of the sparkly shit, niggas talkin shit\n  I wanna see the streets dark again\n  Let the heaters spark again, police callin all cars off\n  Powerful as a motherfuckin Vulcan\n  My specialty is - poetically lyrically energetically\n  Ultramagnetically Dogg Pound pedigree\n  Fuck the shiny shit, fuck a bitch, only grimy shit\n  Dirty shit, holocaust in thirty-thirty shit\n  Mxyzptlk, assassin Sicilian\n  Kill women and kill men, and kidnap children\n  For vengeance in the name of the Horsemen\n  Slice your Achilles tendon, the Headless Horseman\n  And we abide by, the code of the streets\n  The makings of a real MC (C... C... C... C) yeah bitch!\n\n  So just abide by what you ride by\n  Cause we abide, by what we ride by\n  Just abide by what you ride by\n  Cause we abide, by what we ride by\n\n  What the fuck y'all done started; four apocalypic prophets\n  Appearin outta floatin objects, wearin Middle Eastern garments\n  Long trenchcoats with our hands in our pockets\n  Slappin all you scary-ass rap artists, half-retarded\n  Swear by our forefathers\n  Anything you speak, think, or show will be disregarded\n  Then I drag your frightened ass through the darkness\n  Bring you out the other side, as a carcass\n  I'm heartless, regardless if y'all claim to be Gods or Goddess\n  To me, y'all all garbage; I see all of y'all as movin targets\n  And my lyrics be the atomic rockets, cosmic vomic - spittin\n  Hittin at y'all Vietnam vets\n  Wit military arms and bombs strapped to our chest\n  Castin meteor storms and comets\n  Now who wanna make the next ras comment\n  And be the first one left unconscious?\n  After I squeeze your head like the Charmin\n  Fuck around and see a lightning bolt around your throat\n  And squeeze till your head smoke from all the electric volts\n  Satanically sacrifice your ass like an occult\n  Have your seance inside of a dark synogogue\n  We was lyrically sent to y'all\n  Like the Men of God to put a end to y'all\n  I sniff bites like dogs to get the scent of y'all\n  Horsemen, we be scorchin when we be walkin\n  With the power to put a graveyard inside a coffin\n\n  Let's air it out like the breeze\n  Now watch me do one-armed handstands\n  And hang these N-U-T's over seven continents and seven seas\n  Streets is Lebanese\n  Be rockin Bulgari wrist watches and sniper marines\n  Most of these MC's can't even rap, just model and go gold\n  And get big-headed like they swallowin colleges\n  I spit empty gravesites, rap stars fill 'em up\n  You what? Thirty, forty years old and still wack as fuck\n  Me? I ain't even in my prime\n  When I write my dopest rhyme, Western civilization declines\n  Catch me hoppin off the A train in a New York state of mind\n  But I rep Westside, so I keep L.A. time\n  That's a three-hour difference;\n  So when my bitch is a six, she's really a nine\n  In seven days, she'd still be a dime\n  Call me Blaze Skywalker hittin jugular veins\n  Crack open your skull wit a paper weight and suck out your brains\n  Kiddo, I be doin my thug-thizzo for shizzo\n  And the wife of a careless man is almost a widow\n  So what's happening, from P.I. to '99 Madden\n  Since police be jackin blacks, I talk to pigs in Pig Latin:\n  Uck-fay ou-yay itch-bay et-lay a-igga-nay-play\n  And free Keith Mur-ray (Horsemen)\n\n  Yo, yo, yo\n  I kick a verse at six-hundred and sixty-six megahertz\n  Make lightnin flash across the sky everytime I curse\n  Six-hundred and sixty-six flashes\n  Give out six-hundred and sixty-six lashes\n  To the backs of six-hundred and sixty-six Master of Ceremony has-beens\n  Put a crown of thorns on whoever the king of rap is\n  If he's a *Catholic* I nail him to a crucifix\n  Then I beat him till he's blackish-blueish\n  Then perform acupuncture wit six-hundred and sixty-six toothpicks\n  Beat em with two whips; with pieces of broken glass glued to it\n  Your whole crew get spayed and neutered\n  As soon as I aim and shoot it, you get sprayed with bullets\n  Your armored cars and your kevlar vest, is useless\n  I'mma fuck all of you pussies like group sex\n  You get six-hundred and sixty-six years imprisonment\n  For bitin off another nigga's shit, you bitch\n  You got caught, now you on the other side of the law\n  Snitchin on mad niggas in a soundproof court\n  To get some of your sentence knocked off (nah nigga) you wildin'\n  But you still be in Rikers Island getting forced to toss salads\n  You scared of that, wit a phobia fear of that\n  I'mma tape it on the digital video DAT\n  And send a copy to Miramax - leave you exposed\n  Turn all the fiction to fact, so everybody will know\n  You a sucker-ass nigga, father-fuckin ass nigga\n  That got fucked in the ass by your father figure\n  (No matter who?) I'll bruise and bash you, blast you\n  Autograph you wit a bullet wound for a tattoo\n  Deliverin mind blowin rhymes and poems\n  Controllin my tongue when I'm flowin like pilot controlled Boeings\n  When I get bitten, I bite back, quicker than Tyson attacks\n  I don't give a FUCK if I don't get my license back\n  So, take caution\n  The Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit a sword then\n  Gallop Northward\n  MC's take caution\n  The Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit a sword then\n  Gallop Northward motherfuckers; yeah\n\n  So just abide by, what your ride by\n  Cause we abide by, what we ride by\n  Just abide by, what your ride by\n  Cause we abide by what we ride by, HA!\n\n  Wavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Priest, don't hit me no more\"\n  Wavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Bis, don't hit me no more\"\n  Wavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Ras, don't hit me no more\"\n  Wavin the four-four! Aiyyo Kurupt, hit them niggas wit the hardcore!\n\n  Yeah nigga, I'm headless without thoughts\n  With my motherfuckin arms crossed\n  I transform from a Dogg to a Horse\n  Took over the whole race course\n  To throw the jockey off the saddle\n  Now who the fuck really wanna battle?\n  Got me a pistol, launch it off like a missile\n  Let it whistle, they fall fuckin round wit the Dogg\n  I'm a hog.\n"},{"id":18160735,"name":"Watch who you beef wit","trackName":"Watch who you beef wit","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (BEFORE CAN-I-BUS","duration":270.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\nYou might be walkin down the street, then\nSuddenly you hear tires screechin\nNiggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\nThrow you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\nThe whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\nNose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\nYou got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\nWe even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\nWatch who you beef wit\n\nYeah, it ain't no secret\nTalkin that street shit'll get you in some deep shit\nSee, niggas know who you be with\nWhere you be at, when you be gone, when you be back\nAll of my niggas got doctor degrees in thuggonometry\nWe all know how to hold the heat properly\nAnd how to conduct an armed robbery for personal property\nAnd can go without food or water for 24 hours at least\nWe fugitives, who ain't doin a bid, and shoot to live\nEven if it means leavin' you for dead\nCause niggas like you get scared, look for loopholes\nPick the phone up and dial 9-uno-uno\nWhat happened to them crew of niggas that you talk about?\nThem crew of niggas that you never walk without?\nI know what happened; y'all heard about the double-action\nPortable Gatling and y'all don't wanna get blasted\n\nYo, you better watch who you beef wit\nYou might be walkin down the street, then suddenly you hear tires screechin\nNiggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\nThrow you in the car seat and leave your lady standing there screaming\nThe whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\nNose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezing\nYou got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\nWe even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n\nAyo, we run up in radio stations on some unannounced shit\nCatch the DJ off guard and roundhouse him\nDuct tape his mouth then, put a pound to his gut\nAnd force him to play five cuts off the up-and-coming album\nJust the way I planned it, niggas'll start to panic\nBrains get hijacked like planes and crash landed\nBitch niggas pray to the Lord; the black box\nThat was supposed to record the pilot's voice got destroyed\nSo watch who you beef wit and watch who you suck your teeth at\nIt'll probably be somethin you regret\nYou get wet with horizontal rain droplets\nMiniature rockets, coming out barrels of metal objects\nNiggas get shot in the face\nOn the ground shaking like tectonic plates that cause earthquakes\nNow you got your grill in the ground, how that dirt taste?\nYou shouldn't have started this shit in the first place\n\nYo, you better watch who you beef wit\nYou might be walkin down the street, then\nSuddenly you hear tires screechin\nNiggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\nThrow you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\nThe whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\nNose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\nYou got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\nWe even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n\n'Cause niggas is coming to get you, ready to rip you\nWith intercontinental ballistic missiles and pistols\nPut a red dot on your head like you Hindu\nThen put a hole in you big enough to put my open fist through\nWe could verbally diss you or we could get physical\nWhatever niggas wanna do, we could do it too\n'Cause you a sinner, I'm a sinner, we all sinners\nWe rob niggas for they presents at they bar mitzvahs\nWe rob niggas for they body organs and sold em to the highest bidders\nThings like hearts and livers\nOne and a half million in cash when it's delivered\nThen go to Yom Kippur and beg for God to forgive us\nSee you the type that, finds violence real frightening\nOr hold your crucifix tighter when shells is firing\nSitting by your bed perspiring, tryna crawl underneath it\nYou need to watch who you beef wit\n\nYo, you better watch who you beef wit\nYou might be walkin down the street, then\nSuddenly you hear tires screechin\nNiggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\nThrow you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\nThe whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\nNose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\nYou got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\nWe even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\nWatch who you beef wit\n\nKeep that low-down stinkin dirty motherfucker\nYou need to watch who you beef wit\nYou need to watch who you beef wit\nYeah nigga, watch who you beef wit\nWatch who you beef wit\n-- Synced by NoMan --\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:20.32] Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n[00:22.68] You might be walkin down the street, then\n[00:24.65] Suddenly you hear tires screechin\n[00:26.64] Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n[00:28.45] Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\n[00:31.68] The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n[00:34.45] Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\n[00:36.97] You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n[00:39.64] We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n[00:42.24] Watch who you beef wit\n\n[00:43.93] Yeah, it ain't no secret\n[00:45.08] Talkin that street shit'll get you in some deep shit\n[00:47.85] See, niggas know who you be with\n[00:49.73] Where you be at, when you be gone, when you be back\n[00:52.60] All of my niggas got doctor degrees in thuggonometry\n[00:55.64] We all know how to hold the heat properly\n[00:57.65] And how to conduct an armed robbery for personal property\n[01:00.68] And can go without food or water for 24 hours at least\n[01:03.69] We fugitives, who ain't doin a bid, and shoot to live\n[01:06.68] Even if it means leavin' you for dead\n[01:08.77] Cause niggas like you get scared, look for loopholes\n[01:11.53] Pick the phone up and dial 9-uno-uno\n[01:14.12] What happened to them crew of niggas that you talk about?\n[01:17.01] Them crew of niggas that you never walk without?\n[01:19.37] I know what happened; y'all heard about the double-action\n[01:22.09] Portable Gatling and y'all don't wanna get blasted\n\n[01:24.57] Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n[01:26.33] You might be walkin down the street, then suddenly you hear tires screechin\n[01:30.04] Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n[01:32.21] Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standing there screaming\n[01:35.29] The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n[01:37.96] Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezing\n[01:40.61] You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n[01:43.29] We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n\n[01:45.95] Ayo, we run up in radio stations on some unannounced shit\n[01:48.61] Catch the DJ off guard and roundhouse him\n[01:51.01] Duct tape his mouth then, put a pound to his gut\n[01:53.58] And force him to play five cuts off the up-and-coming album\n[01:56.67] Just the way I planned it, niggas'll start to panic\n[01:59.19] Brains get hijacked like planes and crash landed\n[02:01.82] Bitch niggas pray to the Lord; the black box\n[02:04.38] That was supposed to record the pilot's voice got destroyed\n[02:07.06] So watch who you beef wit and watch who you suck your teeth at\n[02:10.63] It'll probably be somethin you regret\n[02:12.50] You get wet with horizontal rain droplets\n[02:14.74] Miniature rockets, coming out barrels of metal objects\n[02:17.67] Niggas get shot in the face\n[02:19.46] On the ground shaking like tectonic plates that cause earthquakes\n[02:22.98] Now you got your grill in the ground, how that dirt taste?\n[02:25.74] You shouldn't have started this shit in the first place\n\n[02:27.94] Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n[02:29.98] You might be walkin down the street, then\n[02:31.86] Suddenly you hear tires screechin\n[02:33.74] Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n[02:35.78] Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\n[02:38.94] The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n[02:41.63] Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\n[02:44.22] You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n[02:46.86] We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n\n[02:49.66] 'Cause niggas is coming to get you, ready to rip you\n[02:52.27] With intercontinental ballistic missiles and pistols\n[02:54.91] Put a red dot on your head like you Hindu\n[02:57.22] Then put a hole in you big enough to put my open fist through\n[03:00.26] We could verbally diss you or we could get physical\n[03:02.74] Whatever niggas wanna do, we could do it too\n[03:05.39] 'Cause you a sinner, I'm a sinner, we all sinners\n[03:08.10] We rob niggas for they presents at they bar mitzvahs\n[03:10.82] We rob niggas for they body organs and sold em to the highest bidders\n[03:14.42] Things like hearts and livers\n[03:16.10] One and a half million in cash when it's delivered\n[03:18.74] Then go to Yom Kippur and beg for God to forgive us\n[03:21.42] See you the type that, finds violence real frightening\n[03:24.10] Or hold your crucifix tighter when shells is firing\n[03:26.74] Sitting by your bed perspiring, tryna crawl underneath it\n[03:29.98] You need to watch who you beef wit\n\n[03:31.58] Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n[03:33.62] You might be walkin down the street, then\n[03:35.50] Suddenly you hear tires screechin\n[03:37.34] Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n[03:39.35] Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\n[03:42.58] The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n[03:45.26] Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\n[03:47.90] You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n[03:50.50] We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n[03:53.23] Watch who you beef wit\n\n[03:54.98] Keep that low-down stinkin dirty motherfucker\n[03:57.47] You need to watch who you beef wit\n[04:03.06] You need to watch who you beef wit\n[04:07.79] Yeah nigga, watch who you beef wit\n[04:14.18] Watch who you beef wit\n[04:20.33] -- Synced by NoMan --\n[04:30.02] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Watch who you beef wit\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (BEFORE CAN-I-BUS\n  duration_ms: 270000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n  start_ms: 20320\n  end_ms: 22680\n- text: You might be walkin down the street, then\n  start_ms: 22680\n  end_ms: 24650\n- text: Suddenly you hear tires screechin\n  start_ms: 24650\n  end_ms: 26640\n- text: Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n  start_ms: 26640\n  end_ms: 28450\n- text: Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\n  start_ms: 28450\n  end_ms: 31680\n- text: The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n  start_ms: 31680\n  end_ms: 34450\n- text: Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\n  start_ms: 34450\n  end_ms: 36970\n- text: You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n  start_ms: 36970\n  end_ms: 39640\n- text: We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n  start_ms: 39640\n  end_ms: 42240\n- text: Watch who you beef wit\n  start_ms: 42240\n  end_ms: 43930\n- text: Yeah, it ain't no secret\n  start_ms: 43930\n  end_ms: 45080\n- text: Talkin that street shit'll get you in some deep shit\n  start_ms: 45080\n  end_ms: 47850\n- text: See, niggas know who you be with\n  start_ms: 47850\n  end_ms: 49730\n- text: Where you be at, when you be gone, when you be back\n  start_ms: 49730\n  end_ms: 52600\n- text: All of my niggas got doctor degrees in thuggonometry\n  start_ms: 52600\n  end_ms: 55640\n- text: We all know how to hold the heat properly\n  start_ms: 55640\n  end_ms: 57650\n- text: And how to conduct an armed robbery for personal property\n  start_ms: 57650\n  end_ms: 60680\n- text: And can go without food or water for 24 hours at least\n  start_ms: 60680\n  end_ms: 63690\n- text: We fugitives, who ain't doin a bid, and shoot to live\n  start_ms: 63690\n  end_ms: 66680\n- text: Even if it means leavin' you for dead\n  start_ms: 66680\n  end_ms: 68770\n- text: Cause niggas like you get scared, look for loopholes\n  start_ms: 68770\n  end_ms: 71530\n- text: Pick the phone up and dial 9-uno-uno\n  start_ms: 71530\n  end_ms: 74120\n- text: What happened to them crew of niggas that you talk about?\n  start_ms: 74120\n  end_ms: 77010\n- text: Them crew of niggas that you never walk without?\n  start_ms: 77010\n  end_ms: 79370\n- text: I know what happened; y'all heard about the double-action\n  start_ms: 79370\n  end_ms: 82090\n- text: Portable Gatling and y'all don't wanna get blasted\n  start_ms: 82090\n  end_ms: 84570\n- text: Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n  start_ms: 84570\n  end_ms: 86330\n- text: You might be walkin down the street, then suddenly you hear tires screechin\n  start_ms: 86330\n  end_ms: 90040\n- text: Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n  start_ms: 90040\n  end_ms: 92210\n- text: Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standing there screaming\n  start_ms: 92210\n  end_ms: 95290\n- text: The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n  start_ms: 95290\n  end_ms: 97960\n- text: Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezing\n  start_ms: 97960\n  end_ms: 100610\n- text: You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n  start_ms: 100610\n  end_ms: 103290\n- text: We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n  start_ms: 103290\n  end_ms: 105950\n- text: Ayo, we run up in radio stations on some unannounced shit\n  start_ms: 105950\n  end_ms: 108610\n- text: Catch the DJ off guard and roundhouse him\n  start_ms: 108610\n  end_ms: 111010\n- text: Duct tape his mouth then, put a pound to his gut\n  start_ms: 111010\n  end_ms: 113580\n- text: And force him to play five cuts off the up-and-coming album\n  start_ms: 113580\n  end_ms: 116670\n- text: Just the way I planned it, niggas'll start to panic\n  start_ms: 116670\n  end_ms: 119190\n- text: Brains get hijacked like planes and crash landed\n  start_ms: 119190\n  end_ms: 121820\n- text: Bitch niggas pray to the Lord; the black box\n  start_ms: 121820\n  end_ms: 124380\n- text: That was supposed to record the pilot's voice got destroyed\n  start_ms: 124380\n  end_ms: 127060\n- text: So watch who you beef wit and watch who you suck your teeth at\n  start_ms: 127060\n  end_ms: 130630\n- text: It'll probably be somethin you regret\n  start_ms: 130630\n  end_ms: 132500\n- text: You get wet with horizontal rain droplets\n  start_ms: 132500\n  end_ms: 134740\n- text: Miniature rockets, coming out barrels of metal objects\n  start_ms: 134740\n  end_ms: 137670\n- text: Niggas get shot in the face\n  start_ms: 137670\n  end_ms: 139460\n- text: On the ground shaking like tectonic plates that cause earthquakes\n  start_ms: 139460\n  end_ms: 142980\n- text: Now you got your grill in the ground, how that dirt taste?\n  start_ms: 142980\n  end_ms: 145740\n- text: You shouldn't have started this shit in the first place\n  start_ms: 145740\n  end_ms: 147940\n- text: Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n  start_ms: 147940\n  end_ms: 149980\n- text: You might be walkin down the street, then\n  start_ms: 149980\n  end_ms: 151860\n- text: Suddenly you hear tires screechin\n  start_ms: 151860\n  end_ms: 153740\n- text: Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n  start_ms: 153740\n  end_ms: 155780\n- text: Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\n  start_ms: 155780\n  end_ms: 158940\n- text: The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n  start_ms: 158940\n  end_ms: 161630\n- text: Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\n  start_ms: 161630\n  end_ms: 164220\n- text: You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n  start_ms: 164220\n  end_ms: 166860\n- text: We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n  start_ms: 166860\n  end_ms: 169660\n- text: '''Cause niggas is coming to get you, ready to rip you'\n  start_ms: 169660\n  end_ms: 172270\n- text: With intercontinental ballistic missiles and pistols\n  start_ms: 172270\n  end_ms: 174910\n- text: Put a red dot on your head like you Hindu\n  start_ms: 174910\n  end_ms: 177220\n- text: Then put a hole in you big enough to put my open fist through\n  start_ms: 177220\n  end_ms: 180260\n- text: We could verbally diss you or we could get physical\n  start_ms: 180260\n  end_ms: 182740\n- text: Whatever niggas wanna do, we could do it too\n  start_ms: 182740\n  end_ms: 185390\n- text: '''Cause you a sinner, I''m a sinner, we all sinners'\n  start_ms: 185390\n  end_ms: 188100\n- text: We rob niggas for they presents at they bar mitzvahs\n  start_ms: 188100\n  end_ms: 190820\n- text: We rob niggas for they body organs and sold em to the highest bidders\n  start_ms: 190820\n  end_ms: 194420\n- text: Things like hearts and livers\n  start_ms: 194420\n  end_ms: 196100\n- text: One and a half million in cash when it's delivered\n  start_ms: 196100\n  end_ms: 198740\n- text: Then go to Yom Kippur and beg for God to forgive us\n  start_ms: 198740\n  end_ms: 201420\n- text: See you the type that, finds violence real frightening\n  start_ms: 201420\n  end_ms: 204100\n- text: Or hold your crucifix tighter when shells is firing\n  start_ms: 204100\n  end_ms: 206740\n- text: Sitting by your bed perspiring, tryna crawl underneath it\n  start_ms: 206740\n  end_ms: 209980\n- text: You need to watch who you beef wit\n  start_ms: 209980\n  end_ms: 211580\n- text: Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n  start_ms: 211580\n  end_ms: 213620\n- text: You might be walkin down the street, then\n  start_ms: 213620\n  end_ms: 215500\n- text: Suddenly you hear tires screechin\n  start_ms: 215500\n  end_ms: 217340\n- text: Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n  start_ms: 217340\n  end_ms: 219350\n- text: Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\n  start_ms: 219350\n  end_ms: 222580\n- text: The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n  start_ms: 222580\n  end_ms: 225260\n- text: Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\n  start_ms: 225260\n  end_ms: 227900\n- text: You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n  start_ms: 227900\n  end_ms: 230500\n- text: We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n  start_ms: 230500\n  end_ms: 233230\n- text: Watch who you beef wit\n  start_ms: 233230\n  end_ms: 234980\n- text: Keep that low-down stinkin dirty motherfucker\n  start_ms: 234980\n  end_ms: 237470\n- text: You need to watch who you beef wit\n  start_ms: 237470\n  end_ms: 243060\n- text: You need to watch who you beef wit\n  start_ms: 243060\n  end_ms: 247790\n- text: Yeah nigga, watch who you beef wit\n  start_ms: 247790\n  end_ms: 254180\n- text: Watch who you beef wit\n  start_ms: 254180\n  end_ms: 260330\n- text: -- Synced by NoMan --\n  start_ms: 260330\n  end_ms: 270020\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 270020\nplain: |\n  Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n  You might be walkin down the street, then\n  Suddenly you hear tires screechin\n  Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n  Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\n  The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n  Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\n  You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n  We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n  Watch who you beef wit\n\n  Yeah, it ain't no secret\n  Talkin that street shit'll get you in some deep shit\n  See, niggas know who you be with\n  Where you be at, when you be gone, when you be back\n  All of my niggas got doctor degrees in thuggonometry\n  We all know how to hold the heat properly\n  And how to conduct an armed robbery for personal property\n  And can go without food or water for 24 hours at least\n  We fugitives, who ain't doin a bid, and shoot to live\n  Even if it means leavin' you for dead\n  Cause niggas like you get scared, look for loopholes\n  Pick the phone up and dial 9-uno-uno\n  What happened to them crew of niggas that you talk about?\n  Them crew of niggas that you never walk without?\n  I know what happened; y'all heard about the double-action\n  Portable Gatling and y'all don't wanna get blasted\n\n  Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n  You might be walkin down the street, then suddenly you hear tires screechin\n  Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n  Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standing there screaming\n  The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n  Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezing\n  You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n  We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n\n  Ayo, we run up in radio stations on some unannounced shit\n  Catch the DJ off guard and roundhouse him\n  Duct tape his mouth then, put a pound to his gut\n  And force him to play five cuts off the up-and-coming album\n  Just the way I planned it, niggas'll start to panic\n  Brains get hijacked like planes and crash landed\n  Bitch niggas pray to the Lord; the black box\n  That was supposed to record the pilot's voice got destroyed\n  So watch who you beef wit and watch who you suck your teeth at\n  It'll probably be somethin you regret\n  You get wet with horizontal rain droplets\n  Miniature rockets, coming out barrels of metal objects\n  Niggas get shot in the face\n  On the ground shaking like tectonic plates that cause earthquakes\n  Now you got your grill in the ground, how that dirt taste?\n  You shouldn't have started this shit in the first place\n\n  Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n  You might be walkin down the street, then\n  Suddenly you hear tires screechin\n  Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n  Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\n  The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n  Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\n  You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n  We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n\n  'Cause niggas is coming to get you, ready to rip you\n  With intercontinental ballistic missiles and pistols\n  Put a red dot on your head like you Hindu\n  Then put a hole in you big enough to put my open fist through\n  We could verbally diss you or we could get physical\n  Whatever niggas wanna do, we could do it too\n  'Cause you a sinner, I'm a sinner, we all sinners\n  We rob niggas for they presents at they bar mitzvahs\n  We rob niggas for they body organs and sold em to the highest bidders\n  Things like hearts and livers\n  One and a half million in cash when it's delivered\n  Then go to Yom Kippur and beg for God to forgive us\n  See you the type that, finds violence real frightening\n  Or hold your crucifix tighter when shells is firing\n  Sitting by your bed perspiring, tryna crawl underneath it\n  You need to watch who you beef wit\n\n  Yo, you better watch who you beef wit\n  You might be walkin down the street, then\n  Suddenly you hear tires screechin\n  Niggas'll be hoppin out with heat and\n  Throw you in the car seat and leave your lady standin there screamin\n  The whole weekend, you get blindfolded and beaten\n  Nose bleedin, gaspin for air, wheezin\n  You got kidnapped and you don't even know the reason\n  We even called your fam for ransom, they said, \"Keep him\"\n  Watch who you beef wit\n\n  Keep that low-down stinkin dirty motherfucker\n  You need to watch who you beef wit\n  You need to watch who you beef wit\n  Yeah nigga, watch who you beef wit\n  Watch who you beef wit\n  -- Synced by NoMan --\n"},{"id":18162593,"name":"Horsementality feat. Kurupt, R","trackName":"Horsementality feat. Kurupt, R","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. [Before Can-I-bus]","duration":359.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"-- Synced by NoMan --\nThe beginnin of the end niggas!\nYeah, we gon' rock this shit forever\nThe alpha and the omega\nThe Canibus'll make your eyes redder\nFuck y'all niggas talkin' bout cheddar\nBrought to you by your millennium group, The Horsemen\nFour swordsmen\nFrom the land of the lost\nRas Kass, Killah Priest and Kurupt wit Can-I-Bus\nThrow your 4's up or get your vocal cords cut, motherfucker\nWavin' the four-four!\n\nI'm headless, nigga, but I packs a big piece\nBlastin', they let assassins loose on the street\nMurderous notes I wrote, I lacerate throats\nI toss fire at niggas; motherfuck the six\nThe condos is supposed to be flip bricks\nAll thirty-nine of your bitches, pretty-ass bitch nigga\nI'll throw some fucked up kicks on\nNext a small tank top, the spot, shot it up\nBeat you in your face wit a rope knotted up\n'Cause we don't give a fuck, the Headless Horseman Kurupt\nSee, I'm off the wall nigga, Horsementality\nI'm a Horseman, nigga, and that's all I'll be\nSee, I'm tired of the sparkly shit, niggas talkin' shit\nI wanna see the streets dark again\nLet the heaters spark again, police callin' all cars off and\nPowerful as a motherfuckin' Vulcan\nMy specialty is - poetically lyrically energetically\nUltramagnetically Dogg Pound pedigree\nFuck the shiny shit, fuck a bitch, only grimy shit\nDirty shit, holocaust in thirty-thirty shit\nMxyzptlk, assassin Sicilian\nKill women and kill men, and kidnap children\nFor vengeance in the name of the Horsemen\nSlice your Achilles tendon, the Headless Horseman\nAnd we abide by, the code of the streets\nThe makings of a real MC (C...C...C...C), yeah, bitch!\n\nSo just abide by what you ride by\n'Cause we abide, by what we ride by\nJust abide by what you ride by\n'Cause we abide, by what we ride by\n\nWhat the fuck y'all done started; four apocalypic prophets\nAppearin' outta floatin' objects, wearin' Middle Eastern garments\nLong trench coats with our hands in our pockets\nSlappin' all you scary-ass rap artists, half-retarded\nSwear by our forefathers\nAnything you speak, think, or show will be disregarded\nThen I drag your frightened ass through the darkness\nBring you out the other side, as a carcass\nI'm heartless, regardless if y'all claim to be Gods or Goddess\nTo me, y'all all garbage; I see all of y'all as movin' targets\nAnd my lyrics be the atomic rockets, cosmic vomic - spittin'\nHittin' at y'all Vietnam vets\nWit' military arms and bombs strapped to our chest\nCastin' meteor storms and comets\nNow, who wanna make the next Ras comment?\nAnd be the first one left unconscious?\nAfter I squeeze your head like the Charmin\nFuck around and see a lightning bolt around your throat\nAnd squeeze till your head smoke from all the electric volts\nSatanically sacrifice your ass like an occult\nHave your seance inside of a dark synagogue\nWe was lyrically sent to y'all\nLike the Men of God to put a end to y'all\nI sniff bites like dogs to get the scent of y'all\nHorsemen, we be scorchin' when we be walkin'\nWith the power to put a graveyard inside a coffin\n\nLet's air it out like the breeze\nNow watch me do one-armed handstands\nAnd hang these N-U-T's over seven continents and seven seas\nStreets is Lebanese\nBe rockin' Bulgari wrist watches and sniper marines\nMost of these MC's can't even rap, just model and go gold\nAnd get big-headed like they swallowin' colleges\nI spit empty grave sites, rap stars fill 'em up\nYou what? Thirty, forty years old and still wack as fuck\nMe? I ain't even in my prime\nWhen I write my dopest rhyme, Western civilization declines\nCatch me hoppin' off the A train in a New York state of mind\nBut I rep Westside, so I keep L.A. time\nThat's a three-hour difference;\nSo when my bitch is a six, she's really a nine\nIn seven days, she'd still be a dime\nCall me Blaze Skywalker hittin' jugular veins\nCrack open your skull wit' a paper weight and suck out your brains\nKiddo, I be doin' my thug-thizzo for shizzo\nAnd the wife of a careless man is almost a widow\nSo what's happenin'? From P.I. to '99 Madden\nSince police be jackin' blacks, I talk to pigs in Pig Latin:\nUck-fay ou-yay itch-bay et-lay a igga-nay play\nAnd free Keith Mur-ray (Horsemen)\n\nYo, yo, yo\nI kick a verse at six-hundred and sixty-six megahertz\nMake lightnin' flash across the sky every time I curse\nSix-hundred and sixty-six flashes\nGive out six-hundred and sixty-six lashes\nTo the backs of six-hundred and sixty-six Master of Ceremony has-beens\nPut a crown of thorns on whoever the king of rap is\nIf he's a *Catholic* I nail him to a crucifix\nThen I beat him till he's blackish-blueish\nThen perform acupuncture wit six-hundred and sixty-six toothpicks\nBeat him with two whips; with pieces of broken glass glued to it\nYour whole crew get spayed and neutered\nAs soon as I aim and shoot it, you get sprayed with bullets\nYour armored cars and your kevlar vest, is useless\nI'mma fuck all of you pussies like group sex\nYou get six-hundred and sixty-six years imprisonment\nFor bitin' off another nigga's shit, you bitch\nYou got caught, now you on the other side of the law\nSnitchin' on mad niggas in a soundproof court\nTo get some of your sentence knocked off (Nah, nigga) you wildin'\nBut you still be in Riker's Island gettin' forced to toss salads\nYou scared of that, wit' a phobia fear of that\nI'mma tape it on the digital video DAT\nAnd send a copy to Miramax - leave you exposed\nTurn all the fiction to fact, so everybody will know\nYou a sucker-ass nigga, father-fuckin' ass nigga\nThat got fucked in the ass by your father figure\n(No matter who?) I'll bruise and bash you, blast you\nAutograph you wit' a bullet wound for a tattoo\nDeliverin' mind blowin' rhymes and poems\nControllin' my tongue when I'm flowin' like pilot controlled Boeings\nWhen I get bitten, I bite back, quicker than Tyson attacks\nI don't give a fuck if I don't get my license back\nSo, take caution\nThe Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit' a sword then\nGallop Northward\nMC's take caution\nThe Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit' a sword then\nGallop Northward, motherfuckers; yeah\n\nSo just abide by, what your ride by\n'Cause we abide by, what we ride by\nJust abide by, what your ride by\n'Cause we abide by what we ride by, HA!\n\nWavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Priest, don't hit me no more\"\nWavin' the four-four! All you heard was \"Bis, don't hit me no more\"\nWavin' the four-four! All you heard was \"Ras, don't hit me no more\"\nWavin' the four-four! Ayo, Kurupt, hit them niggas wit the hardcore!\n\nYeah, nigga, I'm headless without thoughts\nWith my motherfuckin' arms crossed\nI transform from a Dogg to a Horse\nTook over the whole race course\nThrow the jockey off the saddle\nNow, who the fuck really wanna battle?\nGot me a pistol, launch it off like a missile\nLet it whistle, they fall fuckin' round wit' the Dogg\nI'm a hog\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.05] -- Synced by NoMan --\n[00:02.36] The beginnin of the end niggas!\n[00:03.95] Yeah, we gon' rock this shit forever\n[00:06.31] The alpha and the omega\n[00:07.75] The Canibus'll make your eyes redder\n[00:09.51] Fuck y'all niggas talkin' bout cheddar\n[00:11.55] Brought to you by your millennium group, The Horsemen\n[00:14.83] Four swordsmen\n[00:16.23] From the land of the lost\n[00:17.27] Ras Kass, Killah Priest and Kurupt wit Can-I-Bus\n[00:19.87] Throw your 4's up or get your vocal cords cut, motherfucker\n[00:23.39] Wavin' the four-four!\n\n[00:24.91] I'm headless, nigga, but I packs a big piece\n[00:27.28] Blastin', they let assassins loose on the street\n[00:29.55] Murderous notes I wrote, I lacerate throats\n[00:32.19] I toss fire at niggas; motherfuck the six\n[00:34.76] The condos is supposed to be flip bricks\n[00:37.23] All thirty-nine of your bitches, pretty-ass bitch nigga\n[00:40.03] I'll throw some fucked up kicks on\n[00:42.07] Next a small tank top, the spot, shot it up\n[00:44.99] Beat you in your face wit a rope knotted up\n[00:47.15] 'Cause we don't give a fuck, the Headless Horseman Kurupt\n[00:49.52] See, I'm off the wall nigga, Horsementality\n[00:52.04] I'm a Horseman, nigga, and that's all I'll be\n[00:54.44] See, I'm tired of the sparkly shit, niggas talkin' shit\n[00:57.64] I wanna see the streets dark again\n[00:59.43] Let the heaters spark again, police callin' all cars off and\n[01:02.71] Powerful as a motherfuckin' Vulcan\n[01:04.75] My specialty is - poetically lyrically energetically\n[01:07.62] Ultramagnetically Dogg Pound pedigree\n[01:09.71] Fuck the shiny shit, fuck a bitch, only grimy shit\n[01:12.26] Dirty shit, holocaust in thirty-thirty shit\n[01:14.50] Mxyzptlk, assassin Sicilian\n[01:16.74] Kill women and kill men, and kidnap children\n[01:19.54] For vengeance in the name of the Horsemen\n[01:21.55] Slice your Achilles tendon, the Headless Horseman\n[01:24.47] And we abide by, the code of the streets\n[01:26.82] The makings of a real MC (C...C...C...C), yeah, bitch!\n\n[01:31.26] So just abide by what you ride by\n[01:34.26] 'Cause we abide, by what we ride by\n[01:36.63] Just abide by what you ride by\n[01:39.14] 'Cause we abide, by what we ride by\n\n[01:41.63] What the fuck y'all done started; four apocalypic prophets\n[01:44.19] Appearin' outta floatin' objects, wearin' Middle Eastern garments\n[01:46.94] Long trench coats with our hands in our pockets\n[01:48.90] Slappin' all you scary-ass rap artists, half-retarded\n[01:51.75] Swear by our forefathers\n[01:53.18] Anything you speak, think, or show will be disregarded\n[01:55.78] Then I drag your frightened ass through the darkness\n[01:57.86] Bring you out the other side, as a carcass\n[02:00.10] I'm heartless, regardless if y'all claim to be Gods or Goddess\n[02:02.90] To me, y'all all garbage; I see all of y'all as movin' targets\n[02:05.98] And my lyrics be the atomic rockets, cosmic vomic - spittin'\n[02:09.50] Hittin' at y'all Vietnam vets\n[02:11.51] Wit' military arms and bombs strapped to our chest\n[02:13.74] Castin' meteor storms and comets\n[02:16.11] Now, who wanna make the next Ras comment?\n[02:18.15] And be the first one left unconscious?\n[02:20.23] After I squeeze your head like the Charmin\n[02:22.22] Fuck around and see a lightning bolt around your throat\n[02:24.59] And squeeze till your head smoke from all the electric volts\n[02:27.43] Satanically sacrifice your ass like an occult\n[02:30.03] Have your seance inside of a dark synagogue\n[02:32.50] We was lyrically sent to y'all\n[02:33.98] Like the Men of God to put a end to y'all\n[02:36.02] I sniff bites like dogs to get the scent of y'all\n[02:38.35] Horsemen, we be scorchin' when we be walkin'\n[02:40.94] With the power to put a graveyard inside a coffin\n\n[02:43.74] Let's air it out like the breeze\n[02:45.07] Now watch me do one-armed handstands\n[02:46.79] And hang these N-U-T's over seven continents and seven seas\n[02:49.95] Streets is Lebanese\n[02:51.35] Be rockin' Bulgari wrist watches and sniper marines\n[02:54.34] Most of these MC's can't even rap, just model and go gold\n[02:57.18] And get big-headed like they swallowin' colleges\n[02:59.50] I spit empty grave sites, rap stars fill 'em up\n[03:01.74] You what? Thirty, forty years old and still wack as fuck\n[03:04.23] Me? I ain't even in my prime\n[03:06.15] When I write my dopest rhyme, Western civilization declines\n[03:09.14] Catch me hoppin' off the A train in a New York state of mind\n[03:11.74] But I rep Westside, so I keep L.A. time\n[03:13.99] That's a three-hour difference;\n[03:15.51] So when my bitch is a six, she's really a nine\n[03:17.59] In seven days, she'd still be a dime\n[03:19.14] Call me Blaze Skywalker hittin' jugular veins\n[03:21.38] Crack open your skull wit' a paper weight and suck out your brains\n[03:24.15] Kiddo, I be doin' my thug-thizzo for shizzo\n[03:26.75] And the wife of a careless man is almost a widow\n[03:29.08] So what's happenin'? From P.I. to '99 Madden\n[03:31.63] Since police be jackin' blacks, I talk to pigs in Pig Latin:\n[03:34.47] Uck-fay ou-yay itch-bay et-lay a igga-nay play\n[03:37.63] And free Keith Mur-ray (Horsemen)\n\n[03:39.74] Yo, yo, yo\n[03:41.39] I kick a verse at six-hundred and sixty-six megahertz\n[03:43.95] Make lightnin' flash across the sky every time I curse\n[03:46.51] Six-hundred and sixty-six flashes\n[03:48.23] Give out six-hundred and sixty-six lashes\n[03:50.47] To the backs of six-hundred and sixty-six Master of Ceremony has-beens\n[03:54.22] Put a crown of thorns on whoever the king of rap is\n[03:56.67] If he's a *Catholic* I nail him to a crucifix\n[03:58.94] Then I beat him till he's blackish-blueish\n[04:00.90] Then perform acupuncture wit six-hundred and sixty-six toothpicks\n[04:03.98] Beat him with two whips; with pieces of broken glass glued to it\n[04:06.99] Your whole crew get spayed and neutered\n[04:08.87] As soon as I aim and shoot it, you get sprayed with bullets\n[04:11.59] Your armored cars and your kevlar vest, is useless\n[04:14.19] I'mma fuck all of you pussies like group sex\n[04:16.35] You get six-hundred and sixty-six years imprisonment\n[04:19.02] For bitin' off another nigga's shit, you bitch\n[04:21.38] You got caught, now you on the other side of the law\n[04:23.75] Snitchin' on mad niggas in a soundproof court\n[04:26.35] To get some of your sentence knocked off (Nah, nigga) you wildin'\n[04:28.92] But you still be in Riker's Island gettin' forced to toss salads\n[04:31.79] You scared of that, wit' a phobia fear of that\n[04:34.06] I'mma tape it on the digital video DAT\n[04:36.42] And send a copy to Miramax - leave you exposed\n[04:38.95] Turn all the fiction to fact, so everybody will know\n[04:41.42] You a sucker-ass nigga, father-fuckin' ass nigga\n[04:44.19] That got fucked in the ass by your father figure\n[04:46.52] (No matter who?) I'll bruise and bash you, blast you\n[04:49.15] Autograph you wit' a bullet wound for a tattoo\n[04:51.51] Deliverin' mind blowin' rhymes and poems\n[04:53.74] Controllin' my tongue when I'm flowin' like pilot controlled Boeings\n[04:56.44] When I get bitten, I bite back, quicker than Tyson attacks\n[04:59.00] I don't give a fuck if I don't get my license back\n[05:01.43] So, take caution\n[05:02.86] The Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit' a sword then\n[05:05.27] Gallop Northward\n[05:06.31] MC's take caution\n[05:07.67] The Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit' a sword then\n[05:10.19] Gallop Northward, motherfuckers; yeah\n\n[05:11.73] So just abide by, what your ride by\n[05:13.52] 'Cause we abide by, what we ride by\n[05:15.96] Just abide by, what your ride by\n[05:18.45] 'Cause we abide by what we ride by, HA!\n\n[05:22.56] Wavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Priest, don't hit me no more\"\n[05:27.49] Wavin' the four-four! All you heard was \"Bis, don't hit me no more\"\n[05:32.28] Wavin' the four-four! All you heard was \"Ras, don't hit me no more\"\n[05:37.28] Wavin' the four-four! Ayo, Kurupt, hit them niggas wit the hardcore!\n\n[05:41.08] Yeah, nigga, I'm headless without thoughts\n[05:42.48] With my motherfuckin' arms crossed\n[05:44.41] I transform from a Dogg to a Horse\n[05:46.29] Took over the whole race course\n[05:47.68] Throw the jockey off the saddle\n[05:49.48] Now, who the fuck really wanna battle?\n[05:51.32] Got me a pistol, launch it off like a missile\n[05:53.72] Let it whistle, they fall fuckin' round wit' the Dogg\n[05:56.33] I'm a hog\n[05:59.10] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Horsementality feat. Kurupt, R\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. [Before Can-I-bus]\n  duration_ms: 359000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: -- Synced by NoMan --\n  start_ms: 50\n  end_ms: 2360\n- text: The beginnin of the end niggas!\n  start_ms: 2360\n  end_ms: 3950\n- text: Yeah, we gon' rock this shit forever\n  start_ms: 3950\n  end_ms: 6310\n- text: The alpha and the omega\n  start_ms: 6310\n  end_ms: 7750\n- text: The Canibus'll make your eyes redder\n  start_ms: 7750\n  end_ms: 9510\n- text: Fuck y'all niggas talkin' bout cheddar\n  start_ms: 9510\n  end_ms: 11550\n- text: Brought to you by your millennium group, The Horsemen\n  start_ms: 11550\n  end_ms: 14830\n- text: Four swordsmen\n  start_ms: 14830\n  end_ms: 16230\n- text: From the land of the lost\n  start_ms: 16230\n  end_ms: 17270\n- text: Ras Kass, Killah Priest and Kurupt wit Can-I-Bus\n  start_ms: 17270\n  end_ms: 19870\n- text: Throw your 4's up or get your vocal cords cut, motherfucker\n  start_ms: 19870\n  end_ms: 23390\n- text: Wavin' the four-four!\n  start_ms: 23390\n  end_ms: 24910\n- text: I'm headless, nigga, but I packs a big piece\n  start_ms: 24910\n  end_ms: 27280\n- text: Blastin', they let assassins loose on the street\n  start_ms: 27280\n  end_ms: 29550\n- text: Murderous notes I wrote, I lacerate throats\n  start_ms: 29550\n  end_ms: 32190\n- text: I toss fire at niggas; motherfuck the six\n  start_ms: 32190\n  end_ms: 34760\n- text: The condos is supposed to be flip bricks\n  start_ms: 34760\n  end_ms: 37230\n- text: All thirty-nine of your bitches, pretty-ass bitch nigga\n  start_ms: 37230\n  end_ms: 40030\n- text: I'll throw some fucked up kicks on\n  start_ms: 40030\n  end_ms: 42070\n- text: Next a small tank top, the spot, shot it up\n  start_ms: 42070\n  end_ms: 44990\n- text: Beat you in your face wit a rope knotted up\n  start_ms: 44990\n  end_ms: 47150\n- text: '''Cause we don''t give a fuck, the Headless Horseman Kurupt'\n  start_ms: 47150\n  end_ms: 49520\n- text: See, I'm off the wall nigga, Horsementality\n  start_ms: 49520\n  end_ms: 52040\n- text: I'm a Horseman, nigga, and that's all I'll be\n  start_ms: 52040\n  end_ms: 54440\n- text: See, I'm tired of the sparkly shit, niggas talkin' shit\n  start_ms: 54440\n  end_ms: 57640\n- text: I wanna see the streets dark again\n  start_ms: 57640\n  end_ms: 59430\n- text: Let the heaters spark again, police callin' all cars off and\n  start_ms: 59430\n  end_ms: 62710\n- text: Powerful as a motherfuckin' Vulcan\n  start_ms: 62710\n  end_ms: 64750\n- text: My specialty is - poetically lyrically energetically\n  start_ms: 64750\n  end_ms: 67620\n- text: Ultramagnetically Dogg Pound pedigree\n  start_ms: 67620\n  end_ms: 69710\n- text: Fuck the shiny shit, fuck a bitch, only grimy shit\n  start_ms: 69710\n  end_ms: 72260\n- text: Dirty shit, holocaust in thirty-thirty shit\n  start_ms: 72260\n  end_ms: 74500\n- text: Mxyzptlk, assassin Sicilian\n  start_ms: 74500\n  end_ms: 76740\n- text: Kill women and kill men, and kidnap children\n  start_ms: 76740\n  end_ms: 79540\n- text: For vengeance in the name of the Horsemen\n  start_ms: 79540\n  end_ms: 81550\n- text: Slice your Achilles tendon, the Headless Horseman\n  start_ms: 81550\n  end_ms: 84470\n- text: And we abide by, the code of the streets\n  start_ms: 84470\n  end_ms: 86820\n- text: The makings of a real MC (C...C...C...C), yeah, bitch!\n  start_ms: 86820\n  end_ms: 91260\n- text: So just abide by what you ride by\n  start_ms: 91260\n  end_ms: 94260\n- text: '''Cause we abide, by what we ride by'\n  start_ms: 94260\n  end_ms: 96630\n- text: Just abide by what you ride by\n  start_ms: 96630\n  end_ms: 99140\n- text: '''Cause we abide, by what we ride by'\n  start_ms: 99140\n  end_ms: 101630\n- text: What the fuck y'all done started; four apocalypic prophets\n  start_ms: 101630\n  end_ms: 104190\n- text: Appearin' outta floatin' objects, wearin' Middle Eastern garments\n  start_ms: 104190\n  end_ms: 106940\n- text: Long trench coats with our hands in our pockets\n  start_ms: 106940\n  end_ms: 108900\n- text: Slappin' all you scary-ass rap artists, half-retarded\n  start_ms: 108900\n  end_ms: 111750\n- text: Swear by our forefathers\n  start_ms: 111750\n  end_ms: 113180\n- text: Anything you speak, think, or show will be disregarded\n  start_ms: 113180\n  end_ms: 115780\n- text: Then I drag your frightened ass through the darkness\n  start_ms: 115780\n  end_ms: 117860\n- text: Bring you out the other side, as a carcass\n  start_ms: 117860\n  end_ms: 120100\n- text: I'm heartless, regardless if y'all claim to be Gods or Goddess\n  start_ms: 120100\n  end_ms: 122900\n- text: To me, y'all all garbage; I see all of y'all as movin' targets\n  start_ms: 122900\n  end_ms: 125980\n- text: And my lyrics be the atomic rockets, cosmic vomic - spittin'\n  start_ms: 125980\n  end_ms: 129500\n- text: Hittin' at y'all Vietnam vets\n  start_ms: 129500\n  end_ms: 131510\n- text: Wit' military arms and bombs strapped to our chest\n  start_ms: 131510\n  end_ms: 133740\n- text: Castin' meteor storms and comets\n  start_ms: 133740\n  end_ms: 136110\n- text: Now, who wanna make the next Ras comment?\n  start_ms: 136110\n  end_ms: 138150\n- text: And be the first one left unconscious?\n  start_ms: 138150\n  end_ms: 140230\n- text: After I squeeze your head like the Charmin\n  start_ms: 140230\n  end_ms: 142220\n- text: Fuck around and see a lightning bolt around your throat\n  start_ms: 142220\n  end_ms: 144590\n- text: And squeeze till your head smoke from all the electric volts\n  start_ms: 144590\n  end_ms: 147430\n- text: Satanically sacrifice your ass like an occult\n  start_ms: 147430\n  end_ms: 150030\n- text: Have your seance inside of a dark synagogue\n  start_ms: 150030\n  end_ms: 152500\n- text: We was lyrically sent to y'all\n  start_ms: 152500\n  end_ms: 153980\n- text: Like the Men of God to put a end to y'all\n  start_ms: 153980\n  end_ms: 156020\n- text: I sniff bites like dogs to get the scent of y'all\n  start_ms: 156020\n  end_ms: 158350\n- text: Horsemen, we be scorchin' when we be walkin'\n  start_ms: 158350\n  end_ms: 160940\n- text: With the power to put a graveyard inside a coffin\n  start_ms: 160940\n  end_ms: 163740\n- text: Let's air it out like the breeze\n  start_ms: 163740\n  end_ms: 165070\n- text: Now watch me do one-armed handstands\n  start_ms: 165070\n  end_ms: 166790\n- text: And hang these N-U-T's over seven continents and seven seas\n  start_ms: 166790\n  end_ms: 169950\n- text: Streets is Lebanese\n  start_ms: 169950\n  end_ms: 171350\n- text: Be rockin' Bulgari wrist watches and sniper marines\n  start_ms: 171350\n  end_ms: 174340\n- text: Most of these MC's can't even rap, just model and go gold\n  start_ms: 174340\n  end_ms: 177180\n- text: And get big-headed like they swallowin' colleges\n  start_ms: 177180\n  end_ms: 179500\n- text: I spit empty grave sites, rap stars fill 'em up\n  start_ms: 179500\n  end_ms: 181740\n- text: You what? Thirty, forty years old and still wack as fuck\n  start_ms: 181740\n  end_ms: 184230\n- text: Me? I ain't even in my prime\n  start_ms: 184230\n  end_ms: 186150\n- text: When I write my dopest rhyme, Western civilization declines\n  start_ms: 186150\n  end_ms: 189140\n- text: Catch me hoppin' off the A train in a New York state of mind\n  start_ms: 189140\n  end_ms: 191740\n- text: But I rep Westside, so I keep L.A. time\n  start_ms: 191740\n  end_ms: 193990\n- text: That's a three-hour difference;\n  start_ms: 193990\n  end_ms: 195510\n- text: So when my bitch is a six, she's really a nine\n  start_ms: 195510\n  end_ms: 197590\n- text: In seven days, she'd still be a dime\n  start_ms: 197590\n  end_ms: 199140\n- text: Call me Blaze Skywalker hittin' jugular veins\n  start_ms: 199140\n  end_ms: 201380\n- text: Crack open your skull wit' a paper weight and suck out your brains\n  start_ms: 201380\n  end_ms: 204150\n- text: Kiddo, I be doin' my thug-thizzo for shizzo\n  start_ms: 204150\n  end_ms: 206750\n- text: And the wife of a careless man is almost a widow\n  start_ms: 206750\n  end_ms: 209080\n- text: So what's happenin'? From P.I. to '99 Madden\n  start_ms: 209080\n  end_ms: 211630\n- text: 'Since police be jackin'' blacks, I talk to pigs in Pig Latin:'\n  start_ms: 211630\n  end_ms: 214470\n- text: Uck-fay ou-yay itch-bay et-lay a igga-nay play\n  start_ms: 214470\n  end_ms: 217630\n- text: And free Keith Mur-ray (Horsemen)\n  start_ms: 217630\n  end_ms: 219740\n- text: Yo, yo, yo\n  start_ms: 219740\n  end_ms: 221390\n- text: I kick a verse at six-hundred and sixty-six megahertz\n  start_ms: 221390\n  end_ms: 223950\n- text: Make lightnin' flash across the sky every time I curse\n  start_ms: 223950\n  end_ms: 226510\n- text: Six-hundred and sixty-six flashes\n  start_ms: 226510\n  end_ms: 228230\n- text: Give out six-hundred and sixty-six lashes\n  start_ms: 228230\n  end_ms: 230470\n- text: To the backs of six-hundred and sixty-six Master of Ceremony has-beens\n  start_ms: 230470\n  end_ms: 234220\n- text: Put a crown of thorns on whoever the king of rap is\n  start_ms: 234220\n  end_ms: 236670\n- text: If he's a *Catholic* I nail him to a crucifix\n  start_ms: 236670\n  end_ms: 238940\n- text: Then I beat him till he's blackish-blueish\n  start_ms: 238940\n  end_ms: 240900\n- text: Then perform acupuncture wit six-hundred and sixty-six toothpicks\n  start_ms: 240900\n  end_ms: 243980\n- text: Beat him with two whips; with pieces of broken glass glued to it\n  start_ms: 243980\n  end_ms: 246990\n- text: Your whole crew get spayed and neutered\n  start_ms: 246990\n  end_ms: 248870\n- text: As soon as I aim and shoot it, you get sprayed with bullets\n  start_ms: 248870\n  end_ms: 251590\n- text: Your armored cars and your kevlar vest, is useless\n  start_ms: 251590\n  end_ms: 254190\n- text: I'mma fuck all of you pussies like group sex\n  start_ms: 254190\n  end_ms: 256350\n- text: You get six-hundred and sixty-six years imprisonment\n  start_ms: 256350\n  end_ms: 259020\n- text: For bitin' off another nigga's shit, you bitch\n  start_ms: 259020\n  end_ms: 261380\n- text: You got caught, now you on the other side of the law\n  start_ms: 261380\n  end_ms: 263750\n- text: Snitchin' on mad niggas in a soundproof court\n  start_ms: 263750\n  end_ms: 266350\n- text: To get some of your sentence knocked off (Nah, nigga) you wildin'\n  start_ms: 266350\n  end_ms: 268920\n- text: But you still be in Riker's Island gettin' forced to toss salads\n  start_ms: 268920\n  end_ms: 271790\n- text: You scared of that, wit' a phobia fear of that\n  start_ms: 271790\n  end_ms: 274060\n- text: I'mma tape it on the digital video DAT\n  start_ms: 274060\n  end_ms: 276420\n- text: And send a copy to Miramax - leave you exposed\n  start_ms: 276420\n  end_ms: 278950\n- text: Turn all the fiction to fact, so everybody will know\n  start_ms: 278950\n  end_ms: 281420\n- text: You a sucker-ass nigga, father-fuckin' ass nigga\n  start_ms: 281420\n  end_ms: 284190\n- text: That got fucked in the ass by your father figure\n  start_ms: 284190\n  end_ms: 286520\n- text: (No matter who?) I'll bruise and bash you, blast you\n  start_ms: 286520\n  end_ms: 289150\n- text: Autograph you wit' a bullet wound for a tattoo\n  start_ms: 289150\n  end_ms: 291510\n- text: Deliverin' mind blowin' rhymes and poems\n  start_ms: 291510\n  end_ms: 293740\n- text: Controllin' my tongue when I'm flowin' like pilot controlled Boeings\n  start_ms: 293740\n  end_ms: 296440\n- text: When I get bitten, I bite back, quicker than Tyson attacks\n  start_ms: 296440\n  end_ms: 299000\n- text: I don't give a fuck if I don't get my license back\n  start_ms: 299000\n  end_ms: 301430\n- text: So, take caution\n  start_ms: 301430\n  end_ms: 302860\n- text: The Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit' a sword then\n  start_ms: 302860\n  end_ms: 305270\n- text: Gallop Northward\n  start_ms: 305270\n  end_ms: 306310\n- text: MC's take caution\n  start_ms: 306310\n  end_ms: 307670\n- text: The Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit' a sword then\n  start_ms: 307670\n  end_ms: 310190\n- text: Gallop Northward, motherfuckers; yeah\n  start_ms: 310190\n  end_ms: 311730\n- text: So just abide by, what your ride by\n  start_ms: 311730\n  end_ms: 313520\n- text: '''Cause we abide by, what we ride by'\n  start_ms: 313520\n  end_ms: 315960\n- text: Just abide by, what your ride by\n  start_ms: 315960\n  end_ms: 318450\n- text: '''Cause we abide by what we ride by, HA!'\n  start_ms: 318450\n  end_ms: 322560\n- text: Wavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Priest, don't hit me no more\"\n  start_ms: 322560\n  end_ms: 327490\n- text: Wavin' the four-four! All you heard was \"Bis, don't hit me no more\"\n  start_ms: 327490\n  end_ms: 332280\n- text: Wavin' the four-four! All you heard was \"Ras, don't hit me no more\"\n  start_ms: 332280\n  end_ms: 337280\n- text: Wavin' the four-four! Ayo, Kurupt, hit them niggas wit the hardcore!\n  start_ms: 337280\n  end_ms: 341080\n- text: Yeah, nigga, I'm headless without thoughts\n  start_ms: 341080\n  end_ms: 342480\n- text: With my motherfuckin' arms crossed\n  start_ms: 342480\n  end_ms: 344410\n- text: I transform from a Dogg to a Horse\n  start_ms: 344410\n  end_ms: 346290\n- text: Took over the whole race course\n  start_ms: 346290\n  end_ms: 347680\n- text: Throw the jockey off the saddle\n  start_ms: 347680\n  end_ms: 349480\n- text: Now, who the fuck really wanna battle?\n  start_ms: 349480\n  end_ms: 351320\n- text: Got me a pistol, launch it off like a missile\n  start_ms: 351320\n  end_ms: 353720\n- text: Let it whistle, they fall fuckin' round wit' the Dogg\n  start_ms: 353720\n  end_ms: 356330\n- text: I'm a hog\n  start_ms: 356330\n  end_ms: 359100\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 359100\nplain: |\n  -- Synced by NoMan --\n  The beginnin of the end niggas!\n  Yeah, we gon' rock this shit forever\n  The alpha and the omega\n  The Canibus'll make your eyes redder\n  Fuck y'all niggas talkin' bout cheddar\n  Brought to you by your millennium group, The Horsemen\n  Four swordsmen\n  From the land of the lost\n  Ras Kass, Killah Priest and Kurupt wit Can-I-Bus\n  Throw your 4's up or get your vocal cords cut, motherfucker\n  Wavin' the four-four!\n\n  I'm headless, nigga, but I packs a big piece\n  Blastin', they let assassins loose on the street\n  Murderous notes I wrote, I lacerate throats\n  I toss fire at niggas; motherfuck the six\n  The condos is supposed to be flip bricks\n  All thirty-nine of your bitches, pretty-ass bitch nigga\n  I'll throw some fucked up kicks on\n  Next a small tank top, the spot, shot it up\n  Beat you in your face wit a rope knotted up\n  'Cause we don't give a fuck, the Headless Horseman Kurupt\n  See, I'm off the wall nigga, Horsementality\n  I'm a Horseman, nigga, and that's all I'll be\n  See, I'm tired of the sparkly shit, niggas talkin' shit\n  I wanna see the streets dark again\n  Let the heaters spark again, police callin' all cars off and\n  Powerful as a motherfuckin' Vulcan\n  My specialty is - poetically lyrically energetically\n  Ultramagnetically Dogg Pound pedigree\n  Fuck the shiny shit, fuck a bitch, only grimy shit\n  Dirty shit, holocaust in thirty-thirty shit\n  Mxyzptlk, assassin Sicilian\n  Kill women and kill men, and kidnap children\n  For vengeance in the name of the Horsemen\n  Slice your Achilles tendon, the Headless Horseman\n  And we abide by, the code of the streets\n  The makings of a real MC (C...C...C...C), yeah, bitch!\n\n  So just abide by what you ride by\n  'Cause we abide, by what we ride by\n  Just abide by what you ride by\n  'Cause we abide, by what we ride by\n\n  What the fuck y'all done started; four apocalypic prophets\n  Appearin' outta floatin' objects, wearin' Middle Eastern garments\n  Long trench coats with our hands in our pockets\n  Slappin' all you scary-ass rap artists, half-retarded\n  Swear by our forefathers\n  Anything you speak, think, or show will be disregarded\n  Then I drag your frightened ass through the darkness\n  Bring you out the other side, as a carcass\n  I'm heartless, regardless if y'all claim to be Gods or Goddess\n  To me, y'all all garbage; I see all of y'all as movin' targets\n  And my lyrics be the atomic rockets, cosmic vomic - spittin'\n  Hittin' at y'all Vietnam vets\n  Wit' military arms and bombs strapped to our chest\n  Castin' meteor storms and comets\n  Now, who wanna make the next Ras comment?\n  And be the first one left unconscious?\n  After I squeeze your head like the Charmin\n  Fuck around and see a lightning bolt around your throat\n  And squeeze till your head smoke from all the electric volts\n  Satanically sacrifice your ass like an occult\n  Have your seance inside of a dark synagogue\n  We was lyrically sent to y'all\n  Like the Men of God to put a end to y'all\n  I sniff bites like dogs to get the scent of y'all\n  Horsemen, we be scorchin' when we be walkin'\n  With the power to put a graveyard inside a coffin\n\n  Let's air it out like the breeze\n  Now watch me do one-armed handstands\n  And hang these N-U-T's over seven continents and seven seas\n  Streets is Lebanese\n  Be rockin' Bulgari wrist watches and sniper marines\n  Most of these MC's can't even rap, just model and go gold\n  And get big-headed like they swallowin' colleges\n  I spit empty grave sites, rap stars fill 'em up\n  You what? Thirty, forty years old and still wack as fuck\n  Me? I ain't even in my prime\n  When I write my dopest rhyme, Western civilization declines\n  Catch me hoppin' off the A train in a New York state of mind\n  But I rep Westside, so I keep L.A. time\n  That's a three-hour difference;\n  So when my bitch is a six, she's really a nine\n  In seven days, she'd still be a dime\n  Call me Blaze Skywalker hittin' jugular veins\n  Crack open your skull wit' a paper weight and suck out your brains\n  Kiddo, I be doin' my thug-thizzo for shizzo\n  And the wife of a careless man is almost a widow\n  So what's happenin'? From P.I. to '99 Madden\n  Since police be jackin' blacks, I talk to pigs in Pig Latin:\n  Uck-fay ou-yay itch-bay et-lay a igga-nay play\n  And free Keith Mur-ray (Horsemen)\n\n  Yo, yo, yo\n  I kick a verse at six-hundred and sixty-six megahertz\n  Make lightnin' flash across the sky every time I curse\n  Six-hundred and sixty-six flashes\n  Give out six-hundred and sixty-six lashes\n  To the backs of six-hundred and sixty-six Master of Ceremony has-beens\n  Put a crown of thorns on whoever the king of rap is\n  If he's a *Catholic* I nail him to a crucifix\n  Then I beat him till he's blackish-blueish\n  Then perform acupuncture wit six-hundred and sixty-six toothpicks\n  Beat him with two whips; with pieces of broken glass glued to it\n  Your whole crew get spayed and neutered\n  As soon as I aim and shoot it, you get sprayed with bullets\n  Your armored cars and your kevlar vest, is useless\n  I'mma fuck all of you pussies like group sex\n  You get six-hundred and sixty-six years imprisonment\n  For bitin' off another nigga's shit, you bitch\n  You got caught, now you on the other side of the law\n  Snitchin' on mad niggas in a soundproof court\n  To get some of your sentence knocked off (Nah, nigga) you wildin'\n  But you still be in Riker's Island gettin' forced to toss salads\n  You scared of that, wit' a phobia fear of that\n  I'mma tape it on the digital video DAT\n  And send a copy to Miramax - leave you exposed\n  Turn all the fiction to fact, so everybody will know\n  You a sucker-ass nigga, father-fuckin' ass nigga\n  That got fucked in the ass by your father figure\n  (No matter who?) I'll bruise and bash you, blast you\n  Autograph you wit' a bullet wound for a tattoo\n  Deliverin' mind blowin' rhymes and poems\n  Controllin' my tongue when I'm flowin' like pilot controlled Boeings\n  When I get bitten, I bite back, quicker than Tyson attacks\n  I don't give a fuck if I don't get my license back\n  So, take caution\n  The Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit' a sword then\n  Gallop Northward\n  MC's take caution\n  The Four Horsemen'll chop your head off wit' a sword then\n  Gallop Northward, motherfuckers; yeah\n\n  So just abide by, what your ride by\n  'Cause we abide by, what we ride by\n  Just abide by, what your ride by\n  'Cause we abide by what we ride by, HA!\n\n  Wavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Priest, don't hit me no more\"\n  Wavin' the four-four! All you heard was \"Bis, don't hit me no more\"\n  Wavin' the four-four! All you heard was \"Ras, don't hit me no more\"\n  Wavin' the four-four! Ayo, Kurupt, hit them niggas wit the hardcore!\n\n  Yeah, nigga, I'm headless without thoughts\n  With my motherfuckin' arms crossed\n  I transform from a Dogg to a Horse\n  Took over the whole race course\n  Throw the jockey off the saddle\n  Now, who the fuck really wanna battle?\n  Got me a pistol, launch it off like a missile\n  Let it whistle, they fall fuckin' round wit' the Dogg\n  I'm a hog\n"},{"id":18162432,"name":"Doomsday News","trackName":"Doomsday News","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (BEFORE CAN-I-BUS","duration":213.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"-- Synced by NoMan --\nIf I had half as many bars in gold as I had in lyrics when I flowed\nI'd be the richest man on the globe\nNiggas wanna know is Canibus gold?\nThat's a stupid-ass question, motherfucker, is Canada cold?\n'Bout a thousand degrees lower than liquid nitro is\nFive thousand degrees hotter than flame throwers\nI reflect light, bounce off walls and wreck mics\nDisconnect your windpipe by cuttin' your neck with a knife\nRip through everything from tissues to blood vessels\nMy ninjitsu kill you with the art of Tenchu\nI zig-zag-zig, crushin' a kid\nWith G-forces violent enough to crush your ribs\nLike pilots that fly Russian MIG, comin' to punish you pigs\nGive a fuck who you is, nigga, Canibus in ya biz\nFrom the lowest point in the planet to Mt. Everest\nI kick the illest shit, spray-paintin my name across the pyramids\nThe rap terrorist, Professor Emeritus\nFuck forbidden fruit, I was eatin' pussy in Genesis\n\nWhat you got niggas that's ready to brawl?\nI'll give you the phone card and the celly to make a call\nWhat the fuck y'all bitch niggas actin like y'all tough for?\nWe'll stuff y'all, uppercut y'all, gun butt y'all\nOn stage we break arms, legs, backs and jaws\nEnough damage to cancel your tour (Fuck y'all!)\n\nNow, I said it once and I'll say it a thousand times\nI got thousands of rhymes, the rechargeable alkaline kind\nYou wanna a piece of mine? Fine, we can take it outside\nOtherwise, you're wastin' your time\n'Cause I'mma shine for the one-triple-9\nNiggas gamble and damage they eyes\nGoin' blind, tryna keep up with these lyrical lines\nThe type of nigga you can't flow behind without a dope rhyme\nYou fuck around and get clotheslined 'til you nosedive\nWe can rhyme fair and square or fair in the sphere\nAny place, anywhere, you niggas don't have a prayer\n'Cause doomsday is near, faggot niggas is scared\nThey stand and stare as I appear upon a cushion of air\nWith a long white beard flamin', hot enough to sunburn Satan\nHotter than white people takin' vacation\nOut in Jamaica, out in the sun bathin'\nSun bakin' in gamma ray radiation 'til they skin color look Cajun\nMotherfuckers start agein'\nTo the point where they faces shrivel up like raisins\nAnd they become cancer patients\n\nWhat you got niggas that's ready to brawl?\nI'll give you the phone card and the celly to make a call\nWhat the fuck y'all bitch niggas actin like y'all tough for?\nWe'll stuff y'all, uppercut y'all, gun butt y'all\nOn stage we break arms, legs, backs and jaws\nEnough damage to cancel your tour (Fuck y'all!)\n\nYo, yo, yo, I manipulate the metaphysical power\nTo hold my breath for half an hour\nContinuously breathin' outward\nYou ain't an MC, you a coward\nI make wack rappers lose control of they bladders\nAnd piss in they trousers\nPink pussy possum niggas play dead\nWhile my heat waves hit, and verbal x-rays evaporate shit\nWater molecules get transformed to vapors\nMy lyrics turn the Pacific into a dry lakebed\nElectromagnetic cassettes melt tape decks\nNiggas battle in space; tryin' to hold it down\nBut they can't 'cause they weightless\nAmateur swordsmen gets stabbed through they face mask\nTryin' to escape death\nA world where the whole globe will contract Ebola\nFrom drinkin' spring water darker than Coca-Cola\nHuman with AIDS, computers with Y2K\nI rock rhymes counter-clockwise until doomsday\nFuck y'all, fuck y'all, fuck y'all\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] -- Synced by NoMan --\n[00:20.75] If I had half as many bars in gold as I had in lyrics when I flowed\n[00:25.27] I'd be the richest man on the globe\n[00:26.95] Niggas wanna know is Canibus gold?\n[00:28.99] That's a stupid-ass question, motherfucker, is Canada cold?\n[00:32.52] 'Bout a thousand degrees lower than liquid nitro is\n[00:35.51] Five thousand degrees hotter than flame throwers\n[00:38.15] I reflect light, bounce off walls and wreck mics\n[00:40.70] Disconnect your windpipe by cuttin' your neck with a knife\n[00:43.52] Rip through everything from tissues to blood vessels\n[00:46.46] My ninjitsu kill you with the art of Tenchu\n[00:49.14] I zig-zag-zig, crushin' a kid\n[00:51.39] With G-forces violent enough to crush your ribs\n[00:53.91] Like pilots that fly Russian MIG, comin' to punish you pigs\n[00:57.03] Give a fuck who you is, nigga, Canibus in ya biz\n[00:59.83] From the lowest point in the planet to Mt. Everest\n[01:02.67] I kick the illest shit, spray-paintin my name across the pyramids\n[01:05.79] The rap terrorist, Professor Emeritus\n[01:08.47] Fuck forbidden fruit, I was eatin' pussy in Genesis\n\n[01:11.23] What you got niggas that's ready to brawl?\n[01:13.15] I'll give you the phone card and the celly to make a call\n[01:15.95] What the fuck y'all bitch niggas actin like y'all tough for?\n[01:19.23] We'll stuff y'all, uppercut y'all, gun butt y'all\n[01:22.19] On stage we break arms, legs, backs and jaws\n[01:24.99] Enough damage to cancel your tour (Fuck y'all!)\n\n[01:27.27] Now, I said it once and I'll say it a thousand times\n[01:30.27] I got thousands of rhymes, the rechargeable alkaline kind\n[01:33.03] You wanna a piece of mine? Fine, we can take it outside\n[01:35.67] Otherwise, you're wastin' your time\n[01:37.44] 'Cause I'mma shine for the one-triple-9\n[01:39.39] Niggas gamble and damage they eyes\n[01:41.36] Goin' blind, tryna keep up with these lyrical lines\n[01:43.84] The type of nigga you can't flow behind without a dope rhyme\n[01:46.67] You fuck around and get clotheslined 'til you nosedive\n[01:49.56] We can rhyme fair and square or fair in the sphere\n[01:52.35] Any place, anywhere, you niggas don't have a prayer\n[01:55.20] 'Cause doomsday is near, faggot niggas is scared\n[01:57.67] They stand and stare as I appear upon a cushion of air\n[02:00.39] With a long white beard flamin', hot enough to sunburn Satan\n[02:04.00] Hotter than white people takin' vacation\n[02:06.04] Out in Jamaica, out in the sun bathin'\n[02:08.12] Sun bakin' in gamma ray radiation 'til they skin color look Cajun\n[02:11.63] Motherfuckers start agein'\n[02:13.08] To the point where they faces shrivel up like raisins\n[02:15.68] And they become cancer patients\n\n[02:17.24] What you got niggas that's ready to brawl?\n[02:19.15] I'll give you the phone card and the celly to make a call\n[02:22.00] What the fuck y'all bitch niggas actin like y'all tough for?\n[02:25.31] We'll stuff y'all, uppercut y'all, gun butt y'all\n[02:28.40] On stage we break arms, legs, backs and jaws\n[02:30.95] Enough damage to cancel your tour (Fuck y'all!)\n\n[02:32.79] Yo, yo, yo, I manipulate the metaphysical power\n[02:35.59] To hold my breath for half an hour\n[02:37.07] Continuously breathin' outward\n[02:38.95] You ain't an MC, you a coward\n[02:41.04] I make wack rappers lose control of they bladders\n[02:42.60] And piss in they trousers\n[02:44.83] Pink pussy possum niggas play dead\n[02:46.79] While my heat waves hit, and verbal x-rays evaporate shit\n[02:50.28] Water molecules get transformed to vapors\n[02:52.96] My lyrics turn the Pacific into a dry lakebed\n[02:55.76] Electromagnetic cassettes melt tape decks\n[02:58.52] Niggas battle in space; tryin' to hold it down\n[03:01.15] But they can't 'cause they weightless\n[03:02.72] Amateur swordsmen gets stabbed through they face mask\n[03:05.35] Tryin' to escape death\n[03:06.78] A world where the whole globe will contract Ebola\n[03:09.50] From drinkin' spring water darker than Coca-Cola\n[03:12.25] Human with AIDS, computers with Y2K\n[03:14.93] I rock rhymes counter-clockwise until doomsday\n[03:17.90] Fuck y'all, fuck y'all, fuck y'all\n[03:32.99] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Doomsday News\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (BEFORE CAN-I-BUS\n  duration_ms: 213000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: -- Synced by NoMan --\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 20750\n- text: If I had half as many bars in gold as I had in lyrics when I flowed\n  start_ms: 20750\n  end_ms: 25270\n- text: I'd be the richest man on the globe\n  start_ms: 25270\n  end_ms: 26950\n- text: Niggas wanna know is Canibus gold?\n  start_ms: 26950\n  end_ms: 28990\n- text: That's a stupid-ass question, motherfucker, is Canada cold?\n  start_ms: 28990\n  end_ms: 32520\n- text: '''Bout a thousand degrees lower than liquid nitro is'\n  start_ms: 32520\n  end_ms: 35510\n- text: Five thousand degrees hotter than flame throwers\n  start_ms: 35510\n  end_ms: 38150\n- text: I reflect light, bounce off walls and wreck mics\n  start_ms: 38150\n  end_ms: 40700\n- text: Disconnect your windpipe by cuttin' your neck with a knife\n  start_ms: 40700\n  end_ms: 43520\n- text: Rip through everything from tissues to blood vessels\n  start_ms: 43520\n  end_ms: 46460\n- text: My ninjitsu kill you with the art of Tenchu\n  start_ms: 46460\n  end_ms: 49140\n- text: I zig-zag-zig, crushin' a kid\n  start_ms: 49140\n  end_ms: 51390\n- text: With G-forces violent enough to crush your ribs\n  start_ms: 51390\n  end_ms: 53910\n- text: Like pilots that fly Russian MIG, comin' to punish you pigs\n  start_ms: 53910\n  end_ms: 57030\n- text: Give a fuck who you is, nigga, Canibus in ya biz\n  start_ms: 57030\n  end_ms: 59830\n- text: From the lowest point in the planet to Mt. Everest\n  start_ms: 59830\n  end_ms: 62670\n- text: I kick the illest shit, spray-paintin my name across the pyramids\n  start_ms: 62670\n  end_ms: 65790\n- text: The rap terrorist, Professor Emeritus\n  start_ms: 65790\n  end_ms: 68470\n- text: Fuck forbidden fruit, I was eatin' pussy in Genesis\n  start_ms: 68470\n  end_ms: 71230\n- text: What you got niggas that's ready to brawl?\n  start_ms: 71230\n  end_ms: 73150\n- text: I'll give you the phone card and the celly to make a call\n  start_ms: 73150\n  end_ms: 75950\n- text: What the fuck y'all bitch niggas actin like y'all tough for?\n  start_ms: 75950\n  end_ms: 79230\n- text: We'll stuff y'all, uppercut y'all, gun butt y'all\n  start_ms: 79230\n  end_ms: 82190\n- text: On stage we break arms, legs, backs and jaws\n  start_ms: 82190\n  end_ms: 84990\n- text: Enough damage to cancel your tour (Fuck y'all!)\n  start_ms: 84990\n  end_ms: 87270\n- text: Now, I said it once and I'll say it a thousand times\n  start_ms: 87270\n  end_ms: 90270\n- text: I got thousands of rhymes, the rechargeable alkaline kind\n  start_ms: 90270\n  end_ms: 93030\n- text: You wanna a piece of mine? Fine, we can take it outside\n  start_ms: 93030\n  end_ms: 95670\n- text: Otherwise, you're wastin' your time\n  start_ms: 95670\n  end_ms: 97440\n- text: '''Cause I''mma shine for the one-triple-9'\n  start_ms: 97440\n  end_ms: 99390\n- text: Niggas gamble and damage they eyes\n  start_ms: 99390\n  end_ms: 101360\n- text: Goin' blind, tryna keep up with these lyrical lines\n  start_ms: 101360\n  end_ms: 103840\n- text: The type of nigga you can't flow behind without a dope rhyme\n  start_ms: 103840\n  end_ms: 106670\n- text: You fuck around and get clotheslined 'til you nosedive\n  start_ms: 106670\n  end_ms: 109560\n- text: We can rhyme fair and square or fair in the sphere\n  start_ms: 109560\n  end_ms: 112350\n- text: Any place, anywhere, you niggas don't have a prayer\n  start_ms: 112350\n  end_ms: 115200\n- text: '''Cause doomsday is near, faggot niggas is scared'\n  start_ms: 115200\n  end_ms: 117670\n- text: They stand and stare as I appear upon a cushion of air\n  start_ms: 117670\n  end_ms: 120390\n- text: With a long white beard flamin', hot enough to sunburn Satan\n  start_ms: 120390\n  end_ms: 124000\n- text: Hotter than white people takin' vacation\n  start_ms: 124000\n  end_ms: 126040\n- text: Out in Jamaica, out in the sun bathin'\n  start_ms: 126040\n  end_ms: 128120\n- text: Sun bakin' in gamma ray radiation 'til they skin color look Cajun\n  start_ms: 128120\n  end_ms: 131630\n- text: Motherfuckers start agein'\n  start_ms: 131630\n  end_ms: 133080\n- text: To the point where they faces shrivel up like raisins\n  start_ms: 133080\n  end_ms: 135680\n- text: And they become cancer patients\n  start_ms: 135680\n  end_ms: 137240\n- text: What you got niggas that's ready to brawl?\n  start_ms: 137240\n  end_ms: 139150\n- text: I'll give you the phone card and the celly to make a call\n  start_ms: 139150\n  end_ms: 142000\n- text: What the fuck y'all bitch niggas actin like y'all tough for?\n  start_ms: 142000\n  end_ms: 145310\n- text: We'll stuff y'all, uppercut y'all, gun butt y'all\n  start_ms: 145310\n  end_ms: 148400\n- text: On stage we break arms, legs, backs and jaws\n  start_ms: 148400\n  end_ms: 150950\n- text: Enough damage to cancel your tour (Fuck y'all!)\n  start_ms: 150950\n  end_ms: 152790\n- text: Yo, yo, yo, I manipulate the metaphysical power\n  start_ms: 152790\n  end_ms: 155590\n- text: To hold my breath for half an hour\n  start_ms: 155590\n  end_ms: 157070\n- text: Continuously breathin' outward\n  start_ms: 157070\n  end_ms: 158950\n- text: You ain't an MC, you a coward\n  start_ms: 158950\n  end_ms: 161040\n- text: I make wack rappers lose control of they bladders\n  start_ms: 161040\n  end_ms: 162600\n- text: And piss in they trousers\n  start_ms: 162600\n  end_ms: 164830\n- text: Pink pussy possum niggas play dead\n  start_ms: 164830\n  end_ms: 166790\n- text: While my heat waves hit, and verbal x-rays evaporate shit\n  start_ms: 166790\n  end_ms: 170280\n- text: Water molecules get transformed to vapors\n  start_ms: 170280\n  end_ms: 172960\n- text: My lyrics turn the Pacific into a dry lakebed\n  start_ms: 172960\n  end_ms: 175760\n- text: Electromagnetic cassettes melt tape decks\n  start_ms: 175760\n  end_ms: 178520\n- text: Niggas battle in space; tryin' to hold it down\n  start_ms: 178520\n  end_ms: 181150\n- text: But they can't 'cause they weightless\n  start_ms: 181150\n  end_ms: 182720\n- text: Amateur swordsmen gets stabbed through they face mask\n  start_ms: 182720\n  end_ms: 185350\n- text: Tryin' to escape death\n  start_ms: 185350\n  end_ms: 186780\n- text: A world where the whole globe will contract Ebola\n  start_ms: 186780\n  end_ms: 189500\n- text: From drinkin' spring water darker than Coca-Cola\n  start_ms: 189500\n  end_ms: 192250\n- text: Human with AIDS, computers with Y2K\n  start_ms: 192250\n  end_ms: 194930\n- text: I rock rhymes counter-clockwise until doomsday\n  start_ms: 194930\n  end_ms: 197900\n- text: Fuck y'all, fuck y'all, fuck y'all\n  start_ms: 197900\n  end_ms: 212990\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 212990\nplain: |\n  -- Synced by NoMan --\n  If I had half as many bars in gold as I had in lyrics when I flowed\n  I'd be the richest man on the globe\n  Niggas wanna know is Canibus gold?\n  That's a stupid-ass question, motherfucker, is Canada cold?\n  'Bout a thousand degrees lower than liquid nitro is\n  Five thousand degrees hotter than flame throwers\n  I reflect light, bounce off walls and wreck mics\n  Disconnect your windpipe by cuttin' your neck with a knife\n  Rip through everything from tissues to blood vessels\n  My ninjitsu kill you with the art of Tenchu\n  I zig-zag-zig, crushin' a kid\n  With G-forces violent enough to crush your ribs\n  Like pilots that fly Russian MIG, comin' to punish you pigs\n  Give a fuck who you is, nigga, Canibus in ya biz\n  From the lowest point in the planet to Mt. Everest\n  I kick the illest shit, spray-paintin my name across the pyramids\n  The rap terrorist, Professor Emeritus\n  Fuck forbidden fruit, I was eatin' pussy in Genesis\n\n  What you got niggas that's ready to brawl?\n  I'll give you the phone card and the celly to make a call\n  What the fuck y'all bitch niggas actin like y'all tough for?\n  We'll stuff y'all, uppercut y'all, gun butt y'all\n  On stage we break arms, legs, backs and jaws\n  Enough damage to cancel your tour (Fuck y'all!)\n\n  Now, I said it once and I'll say it a thousand times\n  I got thousands of rhymes, the rechargeable alkaline kind\n  You wanna a piece of mine? Fine, we can take it outside\n  Otherwise, you're wastin' your time\n  'Cause I'mma shine for the one-triple-9\n  Niggas gamble and damage they eyes\n  Goin' blind, tryna keep up with these lyrical lines\n  The type of nigga you can't flow behind without a dope rhyme\n  You fuck around and get clotheslined 'til you nosedive\n  We can rhyme fair and square or fair in the sphere\n  Any place, anywhere, you niggas don't have a prayer\n  'Cause doomsday is near, faggot niggas is scared\n  They stand and stare as I appear upon a cushion of air\n  With a long white beard flamin', hot enough to sunburn Satan\n  Hotter than white people takin' vacation\n  Out in Jamaica, out in the sun bathin'\n  Sun bakin' in gamma ray radiation 'til they skin color look Cajun\n  Motherfuckers start agein'\n  To the point where they faces shrivel up like raisins\n  And they become cancer patients\n\n  What you got niggas that's ready to brawl?\n  I'll give you the phone card and the celly to make a call\n  What the fuck y'all bitch niggas actin like y'all tough for?\n  We'll stuff y'all, uppercut y'all, gun butt y'all\n  On stage we break arms, legs, backs and jaws\n  Enough damage to cancel your tour (Fuck y'all!)\n\n  Yo, yo, yo, I manipulate the metaphysical power\n  To hold my breath for half an hour\n  Continuously breathin' outward\n  You ain't an MC, you a coward\n  I make wack rappers lose control of they bladders\n  And piss in they trousers\n  Pink pussy possum niggas play dead\n  While my heat waves hit, and verbal x-rays evaporate shit\n  Water molecules get transformed to vapors\n  My lyrics turn the Pacific into a dry lakebed\n  Electromagnetic cassettes melt tape decks\n  Niggas battle in space; tryin' to hold it down\n  But they can't 'cause they weightless\n  Amateur swordsmen gets stabbed through they face mask\n  Tryin' to escape death\n  A world where the whole globe will contract Ebola\n  From drinkin' spring water darker than Coca-Cola\n  Human with AIDS, computers with Y2K\n  I rock rhymes counter-clockwise until doomsday\n  Fuck y'all, fuck y'all, fuck y'all\n"},{"id":18163686,"name":"Horsemen","trackName":"Horsemen","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":82.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yo, yo. The sheer fuckin assemblin of these fo' niggas rekindling war\nSeek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all fours\nCause your empire to Fall like the season before winter\nDon't get beside yourself like clone twins in the placenta\nAssassinate the mayor through time-travel\nThe assignment: to reduce all molecules and pass through solid confinement\nThe only way you could flooowww *slows down* iiisss iiifff\nI liquidize your rhyme\nConsequently blowin by me crystalizin your mind\nThe government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\nClaimin we were mutants of artificial insemination\nLost my limbs to bomb shrapnel\nBut through cell regeneration the blood accelerates at twice the speed\nPeep the vindication indeed\nThink tank full when you blink, think synchronicity\nRob three banks at the same time through Multiplicity shine\nPLEASE!!! These four niggas combine alone\nBringin a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\nSiege a soldier and hold men for ransom\nStop procreation, chop they cocks off so they can't come\nBlock off a forty mile radius, bomb your fan base\nSeeds are abnormally born and scorn wit a man's face\nIndeed watch the moon bleed, we lead by example\nLoop my life in time, stretch it in a nine like a sample\n\nThe Horsemen - We rock quadrupeds\nHorsemen, enforce men - Chop off your fuckin head\nWe the Horsemen, enforce men - Leave you all dead then we eat your carcass\nThe Horsemen - I'm a Horseman\nEnforce men - I'm a Horseman\nThe Horsemen - I'm a Horseman\nThe forcemen - WE THE HORSEMEN!\n-- Synced by NoMan --\n\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.00] Yo, yo. The sheer fuckin assemblin of these fo' niggas rekindling war\n[00:04.64] Seek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all fours\n[00:07.28] Cause your empire to Fall like the season before winter\n[00:10.28] Don't get beside yourself like clone twins in the placenta\n[00:13.28] Assassinate the mayor through time-travel\n[00:15.52] The assignment: to reduce all molecules and pass through solid confinement\n[00:19.04] The only way you could flooowww *slows down* iiisss iiifff\n[00:23.72] I liquidize your rhyme\n[00:24.84] Consequently blowin by me crystalizin your mind\n[00:27.65] The government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\n[00:30.72] Claimin we were mutants of artificial insemination\n[00:33.36] Lost my limbs to bomb shrapnel\n[00:35.21] But through cell regeneration the blood accelerates at twice the speed\n[00:38.44] Peep the vindication indeed\n[00:40.04] Think tank full when you blink, think synchronicity\n[00:42.56] Rob three banks at the same time through Multiplicity shine\n[00:45.64] PLEASE!!! These four niggas combine alone\n[00:49.22] Bringin a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\n[00:51.39] Siege a soldier and hold men for ransom\n[00:53.83] Stop procreation, chop they cocks off so they can't come\n[00:56.90] Block off a forty mile radius, bomb your fan base\n[00:59.74] Seeds are abnormally born and scorn wit a man's face\n[01:02.75] Indeed watch the moon bleed, we lead by example\n[01:05.31] Loop my life in time, stretch it in a nine like a sample\n\n[01:08.14] The Horsemen - We rock quadrupeds\n[01:09.62] Horsemen, enforce men - Chop off your fuckin head\n[01:11.22] We the Horsemen, enforce men - Leave you all dead then we eat your carcass\n[01:14.27] The Horsemen - I'm a Horseman\n[01:15.39] Enforce men - I'm a Horseman\n[01:16.79] The Horsemen - I'm a Horseman\n[01:18.27] The forcemen - WE THE HORSEMEN!\n[01:20.39] -- Synced by NoMan --\n[01:22.18] \n","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Horsemen\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 82000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yo, yo. The sheer fuckin assemblin of these fo' niggas rekindling war\n  start_ms: 0\n  end_ms: 4640\n- text: Seek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all fours\n  start_ms: 4640\n  end_ms: 7280\n- text: Cause your empire to Fall like the season before winter\n  start_ms: 7280\n  end_ms: 10280\n- text: Don't get beside yourself like clone twins in the placenta\n  start_ms: 10280\n  end_ms: 13280\n- text: Assassinate the mayor through time-travel\n  start_ms: 13280\n  end_ms: 15520\n- text: 'The assignment: to reduce all molecules and pass through solid confinement'\n  start_ms: 15520\n  end_ms: 19040\n- text: The only way you could flooowww *slows down* iiisss iiifff\n  start_ms: 19040\n  end_ms: 23720\n- text: I liquidize your rhyme\n  start_ms: 23720\n  end_ms: 24840\n- text: Consequently blowin by me crystalizin your mind\n  start_ms: 24840\n  end_ms: 27650\n- text: The government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\n  start_ms: 27650\n  end_ms: 30720\n- text: Claimin we were mutants of artificial insemination\n  start_ms: 30720\n  end_ms: 33360\n- text: Lost my limbs to bomb shrapnel\n  start_ms: 33360\n  end_ms: 35210\n- text: But through cell regeneration the blood accelerates at twice the speed\n  start_ms: 35210\n  end_ms: 38440\n- text: Peep the vindication indeed\n  start_ms: 38440\n  end_ms: 40040\n- text: Think tank full when you blink, think synchronicity\n  start_ms: 40040\n  end_ms: 42560\n- text: Rob three banks at the same time through Multiplicity shine\n  start_ms: 42560\n  end_ms: 45640\n- text: PLEASE!!! These four niggas combine alone\n  start_ms: 45640\n  end_ms: 49220\n- text: Bringin a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\n  start_ms: 49220\n  end_ms: 51390\n- text: Siege a soldier and hold men for ransom\n  start_ms: 51390\n  end_ms: 53830\n- text: Stop procreation, chop they cocks off so they can't come\n  start_ms: 53830\n  end_ms: 56900\n- text: Block off a forty mile radius, bomb your fan base\n  start_ms: 56900\n  end_ms: 59740\n- text: Seeds are abnormally born and scorn wit a man's face\n  start_ms: 59740\n  end_ms: 62750\n- text: Indeed watch the moon bleed, we lead by example\n  start_ms: 62750\n  end_ms: 65310\n- text: Loop my life in time, stretch it in a nine like a sample\n  start_ms: 65310\n  end_ms: 68140\n- text: The Horsemen - We rock quadrupeds\n  start_ms: 68140\n  end_ms: 69620\n- text: Horsemen, enforce men - Chop off your fuckin head\n  start_ms: 69620\n  end_ms: 71220\n- text: We the Horsemen, enforce men - Leave you all dead then we eat your carcass\n  start_ms: 71220\n  end_ms: 74270\n- text: The Horsemen - I'm a Horseman\n  start_ms: 74270\n  end_ms: 75390\n- text: Enforce men - I'm a Horseman\n  start_ms: 75390\n  end_ms: 76790\n- text: The Horsemen - I'm a Horseman\n  start_ms: 76790\n  end_ms: 78270\n- text: The forcemen - WE THE HORSEMEN!\n  start_ms: 78270\n  end_ms: 80390\n- text: -- Synced by NoMan --\n  start_ms: 80390\n  end_ms: 82180\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 82180\nplain: |+\n  Yo, yo. The sheer fuckin assemblin of these fo' niggas rekindling war\n  Seek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all fours\n  Cause your empire to Fall like the season before winter\n  Don't get beside yourself like clone twins in the placenta\n  Assassinate the mayor through time-travel\n  The assignment: to reduce all molecules and pass through solid confinement\n  The only way you could flooowww *slows down* iiisss iiifff\n  I liquidize your rhyme\n  Consequently blowin by me crystalizin your mind\n  The government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\n  Claimin we were mutants of artificial insemination\n  Lost my limbs to bomb shrapnel\n  But through cell regeneration the blood accelerates at twice the speed\n  Peep the vindication indeed\n  Think tank full when you blink, think synchronicity\n  Rob three banks at the same time through Multiplicity shine\n  PLEASE!!! These four niggas combine alone\n  Bringin a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\n  Siege a soldier and hold men for ransom\n  Stop procreation, chop they cocks off so they can't come\n  Block off a forty mile radius, bomb your fan base\n  Seeds are abnormally born and scorn wit a man's face\n  Indeed watch the moon bleed, we lead by example\n  Loop my life in time, stretch it in a nine like a sample\n\n  The Horsemen - We rock quadrupeds\n  Horsemen, enforce men - Chop off your fuckin head\n  We the Horsemen, enforce men - Leave you all dead then we eat your carcass\n  The Horsemen - I'm a Horseman\n  Enforce men - I'm a Horseman\n  The Horsemen - I'm a Horseman\n  The forcemen - WE THE HORSEMEN!\n  -- Synced by NoMan --\n\n"},{"id":17503866,"name":"Horsementality","trackName":"Horsementality","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":359.505667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"The beginning of the end niggas!\n\n(Canibus)\nYeah, we gon' rock this shit forever, the alpha and the omega\nThe Canibus'll make your eyes redder\nFUCK y'all niggas talking bout cheddar\n\n(Ras Kass)\nBrought to you by your millennium group The Horsemen\n\n(Canibus)\nFour swordsmen (From the land of the lost)\nRas Kass, Killah Priest and Kurupt wit Can-i-bus\nThrow your 4's up or get your vocal cords cut\nMOTHAFUCKER!\n\n(Both) Wavin the four-four!\n\n(Kurupt)\nI'm headless nigga, but I packs a big piece\nBlasting, they let assassins loose on the street\nMurderous notes I wrote, I lacerate throats\nI toss fire at niggas\nMotherfuck a six, the condos is supposed to be flip bricks\nAll thirty-nine of your bitches, pretty-ass bitch nigga\nI'll throw some fucked up kicks on\nNext is a small tank top, the spot, shot it up\nBeat you in your face wit a rope knotted up\nCuz we don't give a fuck, the Headless Horseman Kurupt\nSee I'm off the wall nigga, Horsementality\nA Horseman nigga and that's all I'll be\nSee I'm tired of this Barkley shit\nNiggas talking shit, I wanna see the streets dark again\nLet the heaters spark again\nPolice calling all cars off then\nPowerful as a motherfucking Vulcan\nMy speciality is poetically lyrically energetically ultramagnetically\nDogg Pound pedigree\nFuck the shiny shit, fuck a bitch, only grimy shit\nDirty shit, holocaust thirty-thirty shit\nMissile click, assassin Sicilian\nKill women and kill men, and kidnap children\nFor vengeance in the name of the Horsemen\nSlice your Achilles tendon, the Headless Horseman\nAnd we abide by the code of the streets\nThe makings of a real MC nigga\n(C... C... C... C) yeah bitch!\n\n(Canibus)\nSo just abide by what you ride by\nCuz we abide by what we ride by\nJust abide by what you ride by\nCuz we abide by what we ride by\n\n(Killah Priest)\nMotherfucker, it's started, four apocalyptic prophets\nAppearing outta floating objects\nWearing mid-western garments\nLong trenchcoats wit our hands in our pockets\nSlapping all you scary-ass rap artists half retarded\nSwear by our fore fathers\nAnything you speak, think, or show will be disregarded\nThen I drag your frightened ass through the darkness\nBring you out the other side as a carcus\nI'm heartless, regardless if you claim to be gods or goddess\nTo me, y'all all garbage\nI see all of y'all as moving targets\nAnd my lyrics be the atomic rocket\nCosmic vomic spitting, hitting at ya Vietnam vets\nWit military arms and bombs strapped to our chest\nCasting meteor storms and comets\nNow who wanna make the next rise comet\nAnd be the first one left unconscious\nAfter I squeeze your head like the Charmin\nFuck around and see a lightning bolt around your throat\nAnd squeeze till your head smoke from all the electric volts\nSatanically sacrifice your ass like in a colt\nHave your seance inside of a dark synagogue\nWe was lyrically sent to y'all\nLike demigod to put a end to y'all\nSpit bites like dogs and get the scent of y'all\nHorsemen, we be scorching when we be walking\nWit the power to put a graveyard inside a coffin\n\n(Ras Kass)\nLet's serve it out like the breeze\nNow watch me do one-armed handstands\nAnd hang these N-U-T's over seven continents and seven seas\nStreets is Lebanese\nBe rocking Bogari wrist watches and sniper marines\nMost of these MC's can't even rap\nJust modelling, go gold and get big-headed like they swallowin colleges\nI spit empty gravesites, rap stars fill em out\nYou what? Thirty, forty years old and still wack as fuck\nMe? I'm ain't even in my prime\nWhen I write my dopest rhyme, western civilization declines\nCatch me hopping off the A train in a New York state of mind\nBut I rep westside, so I keep L.A. time\nThat's a three-hour difference\nSo when my bitch is a six, she really a nine\nIn seven days, she'd still be a dime\nCall me Blaze Skywalker hitting jugular veins\nCrack open your skull wit a paperate and suck out your brains\nKiddo, I be doing my thug-thizzo for shizzo\nAnd the wife of a careless man is almost a widow\nSo what's happening, from P.I. to '99 Madden\nSince police be jacking blacks, I talk to pigs in Pig Latin\nUckfe uye ichbe echbe a igginebe and free Keith Murray\n(*Translation: Fuck you bitch ass niggas*)\n\n(Canibus)\nI kick a with six-hundred and sixty-six megahertz\nMake lightning flash across the sky, every time I curse\nSix-hundred and sixty-six flashes, give out six-hundred and sixty-six lashes\nTo the backs of six-hundred and sixty-six masters of ceremony has-beens\nPut a crown of thorns on whoever the king of rap is\nIf he's a Catholic, I'll nail him to a crucifix\nThen I beat him 'til he's blackish-blueish\nThen perform acupuncture with six-hundred and sixty-six toothpicks\nBeat him with two-whips, with pieces of broken glass glued to it\nYour whole crew gets bayed and neutered\nAs soon as I aim and shoot at you get sprayed with bullets\nYour armoured cars and your Kevlar vests is useless\nI'ma fuck all of you pussies like group-sex\nYou get six-hundred and sixty-six years imprisonment\nFor biting off another niggas' shit, you bitch\nYou got caught, now you on the other side of the law\nSnitching on mad niggas' in a soundproof court\nTo get some of your sentences knocked off, nigga you wilding\n'Cause you'll still be in Riker's Island getting forced to toss salads\nYou scared of that, with a phobia fear of that\nI'ma tape it on a digital video D.A.T., and send a copy to Mirimax\nLeave you exposed, turn on the Fiction or Fact, so everybody you know\nYou a sucker-ass nigga, father-fucking ass nigga\nThat got fucked in the ass by a father figure\nBattle who? I bruise and bash you, blast you\nAutograph you with a bullet wound for a tattoo\nDelivering mind-blowing rhymes and poems\nControlling my tongue when I'm flowing like pilots controlled Boeings\nWhen I get bitten, I bite back, quicker than Tyson attacks\nI don't give a fuck if I don't get my license back\nSo, take caution, the Four Horsemen will chop your head off with a sword\nThen gallop northwards\nSo, take caution, the Four Horsemen will chop your head off with a sword\nThen gallop northwards\n\nYeah, so just abide by what your ride by\nCuz we abide by what we ride by\nJust abide by what your ride by\nCuz we abide by what we ride by, HA!\n\n(All)\nWavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Priest, don't hit me no more\"\nWavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Bis, don't hit me no more\"\nWavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Ras, don't hit me no more\"\nWavin the four-four! Aiyyo Kurupt, hit them niggas wit the hardcore\n\n(Kurupt)\nYeah nigga, I'm headless without thoughts\nWit my motherfucking arms crossed\nI transform from a Dogg to a Horse\nTook over the whole race course\nThrow the jockey off the saddle, now who the fuck really wanna battle?\n*Fading*\nGot me a pistol, launch it off like a missile\nLet it whistle, they fall fucking 'round wit the Dogg\nI'm a hog","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Horsementality\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 359506\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  The beginning of the end niggas!\n\n  (Canibus)\n  Yeah, we gon' rock this shit forever, the alpha and the omega\n  The Canibus'll make your eyes redder\n  FUCK y'all niggas talking bout cheddar\n\n  (Ras Kass)\n  Brought to you by your millennium group The Horsemen\n\n  (Canibus)\n  Four swordsmen (From the land of the lost)\n  Ras Kass, Killah Priest and Kurupt wit Can-i-bus\n  Throw your 4's up or get your vocal cords cut\n  MOTHAFUCKER!\n\n  (Both) Wavin the four-four!\n\n  (Kurupt)\n  I'm headless nigga, but I packs a big piece\n  Blasting, they let assassins loose on the street\n  Murderous notes I wrote, I lacerate throats\n  I toss fire at niggas\n  Motherfuck a six, the condos is supposed to be flip bricks\n  All thirty-nine of your bitches, pretty-ass bitch nigga\n  I'll throw some fucked up kicks on\n  Next is a small tank top, the spot, shot it up\n  Beat you in your face wit a rope knotted up\n  Cuz we don't give a fuck, the Headless Horseman Kurupt\n  See I'm off the wall nigga, Horsementality\n  A Horseman nigga and that's all I'll be\n  See I'm tired of this Barkley shit\n  Niggas talking shit, I wanna see the streets dark again\n  Let the heaters spark again\n  Police calling all cars off then\n  Powerful as a motherfucking Vulcan\n  My speciality is poetically lyrically energetically ultramagnetically\n  Dogg Pound pedigree\n  Fuck the shiny shit, fuck a bitch, only grimy shit\n  Dirty shit, holocaust thirty-thirty shit\n  Missile click, assassin Sicilian\n  Kill women and kill men, and kidnap children\n  For vengeance in the name of the Horsemen\n  Slice your Achilles tendon, the Headless Horseman\n  And we abide by the code of the streets\n  The makings of a real MC nigga\n  (C... C... C... C) yeah bitch!\n\n  (Canibus)\n  So just abide by what you ride by\n  Cuz we abide by what we ride by\n  Just abide by what you ride by\n  Cuz we abide by what we ride by\n\n  (Killah Priest)\n  Motherfucker, it's started, four apocalyptic prophets\n  Appearing outta floating objects\n  Wearing mid-western garments\n  Long trenchcoats wit our hands in our pockets\n  Slapping all you scary-ass rap artists half retarded\n  Swear by our fore fathers\n  Anything you speak, think, or show will be disregarded\n  Then I drag your frightened ass through the darkness\n  Bring you out the other side as a carcus\n  I'm heartless, regardless if you claim to be gods or goddess\n  To me, y'all all garbage\n  I see all of y'all as moving targets\n  And my lyrics be the atomic rocket\n  Cosmic vomic spitting, hitting at ya Vietnam vets\n  Wit military arms and bombs strapped to our chest\n  Casting meteor storms and comets\n  Now who wanna make the next rise comet\n  And be the first one left unconscious\n  After I squeeze your head like the Charmin\n  Fuck around and see a lightning bolt around your throat\n  And squeeze till your head smoke from all the electric volts\n  Satanically sacrifice your ass like in a colt\n  Have your seance inside of a dark synagogue\n  We was lyrically sent to y'all\n  Like demigod to put a end to y'all\n  Spit bites like dogs and get the scent of y'all\n  Horsemen, we be scorching when we be walking\n  Wit the power to put a graveyard inside a coffin\n\n  (Ras Kass)\n  Let's serve it out like the breeze\n  Now watch me do one-armed handstands\n  And hang these N-U-T's over seven continents and seven seas\n  Streets is Lebanese\n  Be rocking Bogari wrist watches and sniper marines\n  Most of these MC's can't even rap\n  Just modelling, go gold and get big-headed like they swallowin colleges\n  I spit empty gravesites, rap stars fill em out\n  You what? Thirty, forty years old and still wack as fuck\n  Me? I'm ain't even in my prime\n  When I write my dopest rhyme, western civilization declines\n  Catch me hopping off the A train in a New York state of mind\n  But I rep westside, so I keep L.A. time\n  That's a three-hour difference\n  So when my bitch is a six, she really a nine\n  In seven days, she'd still be a dime\n  Call me Blaze Skywalker hitting jugular veins\n  Crack open your skull wit a paperate and suck out your brains\n  Kiddo, I be doing my thug-thizzo for shizzo\n  And the wife of a careless man is almost a widow\n  So what's happening, from P.I. to '99 Madden\n  Since police be jacking blacks, I talk to pigs in Pig Latin\n  Uckfe uye ichbe echbe a igginebe and free Keith Murray\n  (*Translation: Fuck you bitch ass niggas*)\n\n  (Canibus)\n  I kick a with six-hundred and sixty-six megahertz\n  Make lightning flash across the sky, every time I curse\n  Six-hundred and sixty-six flashes, give out six-hundred and sixty-six lashes\n  To the backs of six-hundred and sixty-six masters of ceremony has-beens\n  Put a crown of thorns on whoever the king of rap is\n  If he's a Catholic, I'll nail him to a crucifix\n  Then I beat him 'til he's blackish-blueish\n  Then perform acupuncture with six-hundred and sixty-six toothpicks\n  Beat him with two-whips, with pieces of broken glass glued to it\n  Your whole crew gets bayed and neutered\n  As soon as I aim and shoot at you get sprayed with bullets\n  Your armoured cars and your Kevlar vests is useless\n  I'ma fuck all of you pussies like group-sex\n  You get six-hundred and sixty-six years imprisonment\n  For biting off another niggas' shit, you bitch\n  You got caught, now you on the other side of the law\n  Snitching on mad niggas' in a soundproof court\n  To get some of your sentences knocked off, nigga you wilding\n  'Cause you'll still be in Riker's Island getting forced to toss salads\n  You scared of that, with a phobia fear of that\n  I'ma tape it on a digital video D.A.T., and send a copy to Mirimax\n  Leave you exposed, turn on the Fiction or Fact, so everybody you know\n  You a sucker-ass nigga, father-fucking ass nigga\n  That got fucked in the ass by a father figure\n  Battle who? I bruise and bash you, blast you\n  Autograph you with a bullet wound for a tattoo\n  Delivering mind-blowing rhymes and poems\n  Controlling my tongue when I'm flowing like pilots controlled Boeings\n  When I get bitten, I bite back, quicker than Tyson attacks\n  I don't give a fuck if I don't get my license back\n  So, take caution, the Four Horsemen will chop your head off with a sword\n  Then gallop northwards\n  So, take caution, the Four Horsemen will chop your head off with a sword\n  Then gallop northwards\n\n  Yeah, so just abide by what your ride by\n  Cuz we abide by what we ride by\n  Just abide by what your ride by\n  Cuz we abide by what we ride by, HA!\n\n  (All)\n  Wavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Priest, don't hit me no more\"\n  Wavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Bis, don't hit me no more\"\n  Wavin the four-four! All you heard was \"Ras, don't hit me no more\"\n  Wavin the four-four! Aiyyo Kurupt, hit them niggas wit the hardcore\n\n  (Kurupt)\n  Yeah nigga, I'm headless without thoughts\n  Wit my motherfucking arms crossed\n  I transform from a Dogg to a Horse\n  Took over the whole race course\n  Throw the jockey off the saddle, now who the fuck really wanna battle?\n  *Fading*\n  Got me a pistol, launch it off like a missile\n  Let it whistle, they fall fucking 'round wit the Dogg\n  I'm a hog\n"},{"id":18397752,"name":"I'll Buss 'Em U Punish 'Em fest. Rakim","trackName":"I'll Buss 'Em U Punish 'Em fest. Rakim","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":247.466667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah, I bust 'em... you punish 'em\nYeah... let me bust 'em\nNaw, I'ma punish 'em\nRa, let me bust 'em\nNaw, I'ma punish 'em\nNaw, let me bust 'em\nNaw, I'ma punish 'em\nCome on Ra, let me bust 'em\nYo Bis, I'ma punish 'em\nYo, yo...\nOut on the battling tip my verbal lateral grip\nKeeps my tongue glued to the A-Dat when I'm trackin' 'em swift\nLet my spit lubricate the chap on my lips\nAnd make you rappers have fits 'cause I'm back in the mix\nForget a pad and a pen, I write rhymes on an IBM\nEbonics is dead, the binary language is in\nCanibus practices in a room wit a thousand candles lit\nMeditating on this rapping shit\nBecause my freestyle reigns sovereign\nWit a deeper conscious than the prophet Muhammad was born wit\nMy brain cavity is enormous\nMy left hemisphere alone harnesses all of the 7 sharveous\nWhile the right one harnesses darkness\nThe type of dark that makes a house haunted\nThe type of dark that people get lost in\nThe type of dark you fear when you're dead in your coffin\nI hear you talkin' but I ignore it\nCause you garbage and your rhymes borin'\nSo keep standin' on the corner,\nthe thrash-man will collect you in the mornin'\nThug cats frontin'\nWacker than Blinky Blink\non the back of the wack-ass wagon babblin' about - nothin'\nNow that real hood rats could get it on, black\nMeet me at The Tunnel where pussy cats get robbed at\nRubber faced rappers get stretched like elastic claymation\ncharacters with verbal vernaculars\nSlappin' ya like a white water raft\nor an Olympic kayak paddlin' across the - Niagara\nFake MCs haul ass like they runnin' track\nWhere ever Canibus or Rakim is at\n\nLet me bust 'em\nNaw, I'ma punish 'em\nNaw, let me bust 'em\nNaw, I'ma punish 'em\nRa, let me bust 'em\nNaw, I'ma punish 'em\nNaw, let me bust 'em\nNaw, I'ma punish 'em\nNaw, let me bust 'em\nNaw, I'ma punish 'em\nRa, let me bust 'em\nNaw, I'ma punish 'em\nNaw, let me bust 'em\nCome on Ra, let me bust 'em\nYo Bis, I'ma punish 'em\n\nBe ready and at ya best\nThe celebrity match of death\nHeart snatched through your chest, cardiac arrest\nCrack your neck while I break your arms, catch your breath\nThen I asked the ref, \"how many cats is left?\"\nOne on one, who challenging? Come get did\nAll I have is a pen and punish you kids\nAbdomen punctured and look what I did to his wig\nWanna live then I stab 'em in the lung with his rib\nEvery word I say detach a vertebrae from your spine\nRematch wherever we meet at, any place anytime\nGet your snot-box smashed with a 9\nSmacked with a rhyme, push your forehead to the back of your mind\nTry to explain what it's like seeing your brain\nYour insane, soon to be ID'ed as remains\nThen I reincarnate 'em and kill 'em again\nAgain and again, again and again\nYo, yo...\nThe battle started with a grapple\nHe had real long hair so a grabbed a hand full\nAnd chopped 'em in the Adams-apple\nHis partner in back of you tried to attack you\nSo I'ma twist 'em up like a pret-zel then I'ma tag you\n\nI'm on some stone cold shit\nWarn your whole click\nCartilage get blown until the whole bone split\nWho wanna spit, bang quick, strangle 'em wit his lip He tried to flip\nbut I left his body danglin'\nYou left 'em danglin'\nI can't believe he wanna grapple again\nI swung 'em around like I was dancing wit 'em\nPut his arms in back of his head and snapped 'em again\nThen I grabbed his limbs and put in the figure-\"6 subtracted from 10\"\nSeven birds, make 'em swerve 'til their vision is blurred\nTurn cats that suped from superb to nerds\nJust say the word, I'll leave your DNA on the curb\nAnd stick my dick in your ear and fuck what you heard","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: I'll Buss 'Em U Punish 'Em fest. Rakim\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 247467\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Yeah, I bust 'em... you punish 'em\n  Yeah... let me bust 'em\n  Naw, I'ma punish 'em\n  Ra, let me bust 'em\n  Naw, I'ma punish 'em\n  Naw, let me bust 'em\n  Naw, I'ma punish 'em\n  Come on Ra, let me bust 'em\n  Yo Bis, I'ma punish 'em\n  Yo, yo...\n  Out on the battling tip my verbal lateral grip\n  Keeps my tongue glued to the A-Dat when I'm trackin' 'em swift\n  Let my spit lubricate the chap on my lips\n  And make you rappers have fits 'cause I'm back in the mix\n  Forget a pad and a pen, I write rhymes on an IBM\n  Ebonics is dead, the binary language is in\n  Canibus practices in a room wit a thousand candles lit\n  Meditating on this rapping shit\n  Because my freestyle reigns sovereign\n  Wit a deeper conscious than the prophet Muhammad was born wit\n  My brain cavity is enormous\n  My left hemisphere alone harnesses all of the 7 sharveous\n  While the right one harnesses darkness\n  The type of dark that makes a house haunted\n  The type of dark that people get lost in\n  The type of dark you fear when you're dead in your coffin\n  I hear you talkin' but I ignore it\n  Cause you garbage and your rhymes borin'\n  So keep standin' on the corner,\n  the thrash-man will collect you in the mornin'\n  Thug cats frontin'\n  Wacker than Blinky Blink\n  on the back of the wack-ass wagon babblin' about - nothin'\n  Now that real hood rats could get it on, black\n  Meet me at The Tunnel where pussy cats get robbed at\n  Rubber faced rappers get stretched like elastic claymation\n  characters with verbal vernaculars\n  Slappin' ya like a white water raft\n  or an Olympic kayak paddlin' across the - Niagara\n  Fake MCs haul ass like they runnin' track\n  Where ever Canibus or Rakim is at\n\n  Let me bust 'em\n  Naw, I'ma punish 'em\n  Naw, let me bust 'em\n  Naw, I'ma punish 'em\n  Ra, let me bust 'em\n  Naw, I'ma punish 'em\n  Naw, let me bust 'em\n  Naw, I'ma punish 'em\n  Naw, let me bust 'em\n  Naw, I'ma punish 'em\n  Ra, let me bust 'em\n  Naw, I'ma punish 'em\n  Naw, let me bust 'em\n  Come on Ra, let me bust 'em\n  Yo Bis, I'ma punish 'em\n\n  Be ready and at ya best\n  The celebrity match of death\n  Heart snatched through your chest, cardiac arrest\n  Crack your neck while I break your arms, catch your breath\n  Then I asked the ref, \"how many cats is left?\"\n  One on one, who challenging? Come get did\n  All I have is a pen and punish you kids\n  Abdomen punctured and look what I did to his wig\n  Wanna live then I stab 'em in the lung with his rib\n  Every word I say detach a vertebrae from your spine\n  Rematch wherever we meet at, any place anytime\n  Get your snot-box smashed with a 9\n  Smacked with a rhyme, push your forehead to the back of your mind\n  Try to explain what it's like seeing your brain\n  Your insane, soon to be ID'ed as remains\n  Then I reincarnate 'em and kill 'em again\n  Again and again, again and again\n  Yo, yo...\n  The battle started with a grapple\n  He had real long hair so a grabbed a hand full\n  And chopped 'em in the Adams-apple\n  His partner in back of you tried to attack you\n  So I'ma twist 'em up like a pret-zel then I'ma tag you\n\n  I'm on some stone cold shit\n  Warn your whole click\n  Cartilage get blown until the whole bone split\n  Who wanna spit, bang quick, strangle 'em wit his lip He tried to flip\n  but I left his body danglin'\n  You left 'em danglin'\n  I can't believe he wanna grapple again\n  I swung 'em around like I was dancing wit 'em\n  Put his arms in back of his head and snapped 'em again\n  Then I grabbed his limbs and put in the figure-\"6 subtracted from 10\"\n  Seven birds, make 'em swerve 'til their vision is blurred\n  Turn cats that suped from superb to nerds\n  Just say the word, I'll leave your DNA on the curb\n  And stick my dick in your ear and fuck what you heard\n"},{"id":18458489,"name":"Life Liquid feat. Journalist","trackName":"Life Liquid feat. Journalist","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":264.133333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Blood spillin' in the streets, the what?\nBlood spillin' in the streets\nBlood spillin' in the streets, uh, yeah (the what, the what?)\nBlood spillin' in the streets (yeah, ayo)\n\nAyo wit two precise, holdin' the right biscuits\nThere'll be a lot of cats leakin' out they life liquid\nTwo actin' hard this ain't Columbia Pictures\nWhen we throw two in your – while you huggin' on your mistress\n\nFrom Philly, where cats quick to mute you at\nCuckoo cats, twist back your FUBU cap\nCrucial black, two chicks to screw you at\nThen they shove a pool stick where you doo-doo at\n\nWhile you checkin' on your pagers, weapons in your faces\nShot blazin', cops section off the pavement\nHoppin' out with gauges, prepare for the occasion\nWe throw about eight in, the house that you was raised in\n\nMouthin' off fakin'll make you a loud patient\nAchin', with your arms in a alcohol basin\nAnd while your brain's achin' I'ma have your dame slavin'\nCocaine and apron, over a flame bakin'\n\nNiggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\nInnocent bystanders get shot by standin'\nY'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\nNiggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n\nNiggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\nInnocent bystanders get shot by standin'\nY'all shoulda ducked when y'all heard the cannon, now you layin' deceased (the what, the what?)\nNiggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n\nCan you feel it? Nothin' can save you\n'Cause this is the season of the infrared laser\nAnd since I got time, what I'm gonna do\nIs show you how you can get spotted by one too\n'Cause I don't give a fuck, I just cock back and bust\nWith more arms than an octopus, as if one gun wasn't enough\nI fuck around and pull eight out\nBlast your face off or blow your brains out\nI'll leave you laid out\n\nThen I pull the gat in my waist out, put it in your mouth\nAnd keep squeezin' 'til the whole clip is sprayed out\nTake the gun in my ankle brace out, shoot you in the stomach\nTill I see the last meal you ate drain out\nYour face look spaced out, I gut you like a trout\n\nScream my name out while I'm scrapin' your rib cage out\nSqueeze with the index, spray like a bottle of Windex\nBullets buzzin' by your head like insects\nFrom your head to your mid-sec'\nAnd I ain't even shoot you in the legs or your limbs or your dick yet\nYour masculinity is questionable, you probably a homosexual\nJust the thought of havin' a woman lay next to you probably threatens you\n\nYou probably look at grapes and see testicles\nYou probably fantasize about vegetables\nLike cucumbers and bananas havin' sex with you (the what, the what?)\nAnd you probably let gerbils crawl up your rectum too\n\nShame on you, I – on you and simultaneously – on you\nAnd pour some acid rain on you\nI stop your heartbeat with heat\nYou're weak, I'll leave your blood spillin' in the street\n\nNiggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\nInnocent bystanders get shot by standin'\nY'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\nNiggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets (yeah)\n\nNiggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\nInnocent bystanders get shot by standin'\nY'all shoulda ducked when y'all heard the cannon, now you layin' deceased\nNiggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?) yeah, yeah\n\nAyo, Journalist what are you workin' with?\nOld school burners with\nBarrels big enough for you head to fit in the circle shit\nWhat are you holdin', Canibus?\n\n30-bullet banana clips\nJust to handle the kick, I gotta glue it to my hands and shit\nWe got permits to murder shit\nWe critically injure who deserve the shit, put 'em in a tourniquet\n\nBombproof Suburbans with tractor-tread tires\nSo we can ride through the dirt with it, drive over curbs with it\nMerc in it, even over slippery surfaces we can swerve in it\nAnd crash into niggaz who don't deserve they shit\nTry stoppin' the dudes, you gotta be bruised\nCockin' the tools that knock you out your socks and your shoes\n\nWe'll leave you shoe less and keep shootin'\nLook how much life liquid you losin', you need a blood transfusion\nIn the back of a medic truck, shots in your neck and gut\nWhile we holdin' our weapons up, I'm still reppin' Philly, what?\n\nBlood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?)\nBlood spillin' in the streets\nBlood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?)\nBlood spillin' in the streets\n\nNiggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\nInnocent bystanders get shot by standin' (the what, the what?)\nY'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\nNiggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n\n(The what, the what?)\n(The what, the what?)","syncedLyrics":"[00:18.32] Blood spillin' in the streets, the what?\n[00:21.09] Blood spillin' in the streets\n[00:23.66] Blood spillin' in the streets, uh, yeah (the what, the what?)\n[00:26.42] Blood spillin' in the streets (yeah, ayo)\n[00:27.83] Ayo wit two precise, holdin' the right biscuits\n[00:30.65] There'll be a lot of cats leakin' out they life liquid\n[00:33.50] Two actin' hard this ain't Columbia Pictures\n[00:35.71] When we throw two in your – while you huggin' on your mistress\n[00:38.74] From Philly, where cats quick to mute you at\n[00:41.10] Cuckoo cats, twist back your FUBU cap\n[00:43.74] Crucial black, two chicks to screw you at\n[00:46.32] Then they shove a pool stick where you doo-doo at\n[00:49.07] While you checkin' on your pagers, weapons in your faces\n[00:52.11] Shot blazin', cops section off the pavement\n[00:54.73] Hoppin' out with gauges, prepare for the occasion\n[00:57.42] We throw about eight in, the house that you was raised in\n[01:00.23] Mouthin' off fakin'll make you a loud patient\n[01:02.61] Achin', with your arms in a alcohol basin\n[01:05.44] And while your brain's achin' I'ma have your dame slavin'\n[01:08.18] Cocaine and apron, over a flame bakin'\n[01:10.60] Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n[01:13.58] Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n[01:15.58] Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\n[01:19.36] Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n[01:21.34] Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n[01:24.39] Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n[01:26.34] Y'all shoulda ducked when y'all heard the cannon, now you layin' deceased (the what, the what?)\n[01:30.01] Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n[01:31.99] Can you feel it? Nothin' can save you\n[01:34.75] 'Cause this is the season of the infrared laser\n[01:37.62] And since I got time, what I'm gonna do\n[01:40.12] Is show you how you can get spotted by one too\n[01:42.54] 'Cause I don't give a fuck, I just cock back and bust\n[01:45.28] With more arms than an octopus, as if one gun wasn't enough\n[01:48.64] I fuck around and pull eight out\n[01:50.38] Blast your face off or blow your brains out\n[01:52.54] I'll leave you laid out\n[01:53.84] Then I pull the gat in my waist out, put it in your mouth\n[01:56.69] And keep squeezin' 'til the whole clip is sprayed out\n[01:59.29] Take the gun in my ankle brace out, shoot you in the stomach\n[02:02.05] Till I see the last meal you ate drain out\n[02:04.34] Your face look spaced out, I gut you like a trout\n[02:07.01] Scream my name out while I'm scrapin' your rib cage out\n[02:09.83] Squeeze with the index, spray like a bottle of Windex\n[02:12.76] Bullets buzzin' by your head like insects\n[02:14.75] From your head to your mid-sec'\n[02:16.75] And I ain't even shoot you in the legs or your limbs or your dick yet\n[02:20.00] Your masculinity is questionable, you probably a homosexual\n[02:24.06] Just the thought of havin' a woman lay next to you probably threatens you\n[02:27.31] You probably look at grapes and see testicles\n[02:29.79] You probably fantasize about vegetables\n[02:31.86] Like cucumbers and bananas havin' sex with you (the what, the what?)\n[02:34.38] And you probably let gerbils crawl up your rectum too\n[02:36.57] Shame on you, I – on you and simultaneously – on you\n[02:40.42] And pour some acid rain on you\n[02:41.92] I stop your heartbeat with heat\n[02:44.17] You're weak, I'll leave your blood spillin' in the street\n[02:47.06] Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n[02:49.94] Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n[02:52.06] Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\n[02:55.71] Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets (yeah)\n[02:57.76] Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n[03:00.68] Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n[03:02.76] Y'all shoulda ducked when y'all heard the cannon, now you layin' deceased\n[03:06.45] Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?) yeah, yeah\n[03:08.33] Ayo, Journalist what are you workin' with?\n[03:10.04] Old school burners with\n[03:11.30] Barrels big enough for you head to fit in the circle shit\n[03:14.08] What are you holdin', Canibus?\n[03:15.14] 30-bullet banana clips\n[03:16.59] Just to handle the kick, I gotta glue it to my hands and shit\n[03:19.53] We got permits to murder shit\n[03:21.08] We critically injure who deserve the shit, put 'em in a tourniquet\n[03:24.61] Bombproof Suburbans with tractor-tread tires\n[03:26.86] So we can ride through the dirt with it, drive over curbs with it\n[03:30.05] Merc in it, even over slippery surfaces we can swerve in it\n[03:33.26] And crash into niggaz who don't deserve they shit\n[03:35.42] Try stoppin' the dudes, you gotta be bruised\n[03:37.65] Cockin' the tools that knock you out your socks and your shoes\n[03:39.93] We'll leave you shoe less and keep shootin'\n[03:42.12] Look how much life liquid you losin', you need a blood transfusion\n[03:45.74] In the back of a medic truck, shots in your neck and gut\n[03:48.30] While we holdin' our weapons up, I'm still reppin' Philly, what?\n[03:52.40] Blood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?)\n[03:55.21] Blood spillin' in the streets\n[03:57.82] Blood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?)\n[04:00.53] Blood spillin' in the streets\n[04:02.09] Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n[04:04.88] Innocent bystanders get shot by standin' (the what, the what?)\n[04:07.17] Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\n[04:10.65] Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n[04:15.30] (The what, the what?)\n[04:15.63] (The what, the what?)\n[04:15.94] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Life Liquid feat. Journalist\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 264133\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Blood spillin' in the streets, the what?\n  start_ms: 18320\n  end_ms: 21090\n- text: Blood spillin' in the streets\n  start_ms: 21090\n  end_ms: 23660\n- text: Blood spillin' in the streets, uh, yeah (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 23660\n  end_ms: 26420\n- text: Blood spillin' in the streets (yeah, ayo)\n  start_ms: 26420\n  end_ms: 27830\n- text: Ayo wit two precise, holdin' the right biscuits\n  start_ms: 27830\n  end_ms: 30650\n- text: There'll be a lot of cats leakin' out they life liquid\n  start_ms: 30650\n  end_ms: 33500\n- text: Two actin' hard this ain't Columbia Pictures\n  start_ms: 33500\n  end_ms: 35710\n- text: When we throw two in your – while you huggin' on your mistress\n  start_ms: 35710\n  end_ms: 38740\n- text: From Philly, where cats quick to mute you at\n  start_ms: 38740\n  end_ms: 41100\n- text: Cuckoo cats, twist back your FUBU cap\n  start_ms: 41100\n  end_ms: 43740\n- text: Crucial black, two chicks to screw you at\n  start_ms: 43740\n  end_ms: 46320\n- text: Then they shove a pool stick where you doo-doo at\n  start_ms: 46320\n  end_ms: 49070\n- text: While you checkin' on your pagers, weapons in your faces\n  start_ms: 49070\n  end_ms: 52110\n- text: Shot blazin', cops section off the pavement\n  start_ms: 52110\n  end_ms: 54730\n- text: Hoppin' out with gauges, prepare for the occasion\n  start_ms: 54730\n  end_ms: 57420\n- text: We throw about eight in, the house that you was raised in\n  start_ms: 57420\n  end_ms: 60230\n- text: Mouthin' off fakin'll make you a loud patient\n  start_ms: 60230\n  end_ms: 62610\n- text: Achin', with your arms in a alcohol basin\n  start_ms: 62610\n  end_ms: 65440\n- text: And while your brain's achin' I'ma have your dame slavin'\n  start_ms: 65440\n  end_ms: 68180\n- text: Cocaine and apron, over a flame bakin'\n  start_ms: 68180\n  end_ms: 70600\n- text: Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 70600\n  end_ms: 73580\n- text: Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n  start_ms: 73580\n  end_ms: 75580\n- text: Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 75580\n  end_ms: 79360\n- text: Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n  start_ms: 79360\n  end_ms: 81340\n- text: Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 81340\n  end_ms: 84390\n- text: Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n  start_ms: 84390\n  end_ms: 86340\n- text: Y'all shoulda ducked when y'all heard the cannon, now you layin' deceased (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 86340\n  end_ms: 90010\n- text: Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n  start_ms: 90010\n  end_ms: 91990\n- text: Can you feel it? Nothin' can save you\n  start_ms: 91990\n  end_ms: 94750\n- text: '''Cause this is the season of the infrared laser'\n  start_ms: 94750\n  end_ms: 97620\n- text: And since I got time, what I'm gonna do\n  start_ms: 97620\n  end_ms: 100120\n- text: Is show you how you can get spotted by one too\n  start_ms: 100120\n  end_ms: 102540\n- text: '''Cause I don''t give a fuck, I just cock back and bust'\n  start_ms: 102540\n  end_ms: 105280\n- text: With more arms than an octopus, as if one gun wasn't enough\n  start_ms: 105280\n  end_ms: 108640\n- text: I fuck around and pull eight out\n  start_ms: 108640\n  end_ms: 110380\n- text: Blast your face off or blow your brains out\n  start_ms: 110380\n  end_ms: 112540\n- text: I'll leave you laid out\n  start_ms: 112540\n  end_ms: 113840\n- text: Then I pull the gat in my waist out, put it in your mouth\n  start_ms: 113840\n  end_ms: 116690\n- text: And keep squeezin' 'til the whole clip is sprayed out\n  start_ms: 116690\n  end_ms: 119290\n- text: Take the gun in my ankle brace out, shoot you in the stomach\n  start_ms: 119290\n  end_ms: 122050\n- text: Till I see the last meal you ate drain out\n  start_ms: 122050\n  end_ms: 124340\n- text: Your face look spaced out, I gut you like a trout\n  start_ms: 124340\n  end_ms: 127010\n- text: Scream my name out while I'm scrapin' your rib cage out\n  start_ms: 127010\n  end_ms: 129830\n- text: Squeeze with the index, spray like a bottle of Windex\n  start_ms: 129830\n  end_ms: 132760\n- text: Bullets buzzin' by your head like insects\n  start_ms: 132760\n  end_ms: 134750\n- text: From your head to your mid-sec'\n  start_ms: 134750\n  end_ms: 136750\n- text: And I ain't even shoot you in the legs or your limbs or your dick yet\n  start_ms: 136750\n  end_ms: 140000\n- text: Your masculinity is questionable, you probably a homosexual\n  start_ms: 140000\n  end_ms: 144060\n- text: Just the thought of havin' a woman lay next to you probably threatens you\n  start_ms: 144060\n  end_ms: 147310\n- text: You probably look at grapes and see testicles\n  start_ms: 147310\n  end_ms: 149790\n- text: You probably fantasize about vegetables\n  start_ms: 149790\n  end_ms: 151860\n- text: Like cucumbers and bananas havin' sex with you (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 151860\n  end_ms: 154380\n- text: And you probably let gerbils crawl up your rectum too\n  start_ms: 154380\n  end_ms: 156570\n- text: Shame on you, I – on you and simultaneously – on you\n  start_ms: 156570\n  end_ms: 160420\n- text: And pour some acid rain on you\n  start_ms: 160420\n  end_ms: 161920\n- text: I stop your heartbeat with heat\n  start_ms: 161920\n  end_ms: 164170\n- text: You're weak, I'll leave your blood spillin' in the street\n  start_ms: 164170\n  end_ms: 167060\n- text: Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 167060\n  end_ms: 169940\n- text: Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n  start_ms: 169940\n  end_ms: 172060\n- text: Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 172060\n  end_ms: 175710\n- text: Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets (yeah)\n  start_ms: 175710\n  end_ms: 177760\n- text: Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 177760\n  end_ms: 180680\n- text: Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n  start_ms: 180680\n  end_ms: 182760\n- text: Y'all shoulda ducked when y'all heard the cannon, now you layin' deceased\n  start_ms: 182760\n  end_ms: 186450\n- text: Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?) yeah, yeah\n  start_ms: 186450\n  end_ms: 188330\n- text: Ayo, Journalist what are you workin' with?\n  start_ms: 188330\n  end_ms: 190040\n- text: Old school burners with\n  start_ms: 190040\n  end_ms: 191300\n- text: Barrels big enough for you head to fit in the circle shit\n  start_ms: 191300\n  end_ms: 194080\n- text: What are you holdin', Canibus?\n  start_ms: 194080\n  end_ms: 195140\n- text: 30-bullet banana clips\n  start_ms: 195140\n  end_ms: 196590\n- text: Just to handle the kick, I gotta glue it to my hands and shit\n  start_ms: 196590\n  end_ms: 199530\n- text: We got permits to murder shit\n  start_ms: 199530\n  end_ms: 201080\n- text: We critically injure who deserve the shit, put 'em in a tourniquet\n  start_ms: 201080\n  end_ms: 204610\n- text: Bombproof Suburbans with tractor-tread tires\n  start_ms: 204610\n  end_ms: 206860\n- text: So we can ride through the dirt with it, drive over curbs with it\n  start_ms: 206860\n  end_ms: 210050\n- text: Merc in it, even over slippery surfaces we can swerve in it\n  start_ms: 210050\n  end_ms: 213260\n- text: And crash into niggaz who don't deserve they shit\n  start_ms: 213260\n  end_ms: 215420\n- text: Try stoppin' the dudes, you gotta be bruised\n  start_ms: 215420\n  end_ms: 217650\n- text: Cockin' the tools that knock you out your socks and your shoes\n  start_ms: 217650\n  end_ms: 219930\n- text: We'll leave you shoe less and keep shootin'\n  start_ms: 219930\n  end_ms: 222120\n- text: Look how much life liquid you losin', you need a blood transfusion\n  start_ms: 222120\n  end_ms: 225740\n- text: In the back of a medic truck, shots in your neck and gut\n  start_ms: 225740\n  end_ms: 228300\n- text: While we holdin' our weapons up, I'm still reppin' Philly, what?\n  start_ms: 228300\n  end_ms: 232400\n- text: Blood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 232400\n  end_ms: 235210\n- text: Blood spillin' in the streets\n  start_ms: 235210\n  end_ms: 237820\n- text: Blood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 237820\n  end_ms: 240530\n- text: Blood spillin' in the streets\n  start_ms: 240530\n  end_ms: 242090\n- text: Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 242090\n  end_ms: 244880\n- text: Innocent bystanders get shot by standin' (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 244880\n  end_ms: 247170\n- text: Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 247170\n  end_ms: 250650\n- text: Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n  start_ms: 250650\n  end_ms: 255300\n- text: (The what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 255300\n  end_ms: 255630\n- text: (The what, the what?)\n  start_ms: 255630\n  end_ms: 255940\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 255940\nplain: |-\n  Blood spillin' in the streets, the what?\n  Blood spillin' in the streets\n  Blood spillin' in the streets, uh, yeah (the what, the what?)\n  Blood spillin' in the streets (yeah, ayo)\n\n  Ayo wit two precise, holdin' the right biscuits\n  There'll be a lot of cats leakin' out they life liquid\n  Two actin' hard this ain't Columbia Pictures\n  When we throw two in your – while you huggin' on your mistress\n\n  From Philly, where cats quick to mute you at\n  Cuckoo cats, twist back your FUBU cap\n  Crucial black, two chicks to screw you at\n  Then they shove a pool stick where you doo-doo at\n\n  While you checkin' on your pagers, weapons in your faces\n  Shot blazin', cops section off the pavement\n  Hoppin' out with gauges, prepare for the occasion\n  We throw about eight in, the house that you was raised in\n\n  Mouthin' off fakin'll make you a loud patient\n  Achin', with your arms in a alcohol basin\n  And while your brain's achin' I'ma have your dame slavin'\n  Cocaine and apron, over a flame bakin'\n\n  Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n  Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n  Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\n  Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n\n  Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n  Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n  Y'all shoulda ducked when y'all heard the cannon, now you layin' deceased (the what, the what?)\n  Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n\n  Can you feel it? Nothin' can save you\n  'Cause this is the season of the infrared laser\n  And since I got time, what I'm gonna do\n  Is show you how you can get spotted by one too\n  'Cause I don't give a fuck, I just cock back and bust\n  With more arms than an octopus, as if one gun wasn't enough\n  I fuck around and pull eight out\n  Blast your face off or blow your brains out\n  I'll leave you laid out\n\n  Then I pull the gat in my waist out, put it in your mouth\n  And keep squeezin' 'til the whole clip is sprayed out\n  Take the gun in my ankle brace out, shoot you in the stomach\n  Till I see the last meal you ate drain out\n  Your face look spaced out, I gut you like a trout\n\n  Scream my name out while I'm scrapin' your rib cage out\n  Squeeze with the index, spray like a bottle of Windex\n  Bullets buzzin' by your head like insects\n  From your head to your mid-sec'\n  And I ain't even shoot you in the legs or your limbs or your dick yet\n  Your masculinity is questionable, you probably a homosexual\n  Just the thought of havin' a woman lay next to you probably threatens you\n\n  You probably look at grapes and see testicles\n  You probably fantasize about vegetables\n  Like cucumbers and bananas havin' sex with you (the what, the what?)\n  And you probably let gerbils crawl up your rectum too\n\n  Shame on you, I – on you and simultaneously – on you\n  And pour some acid rain on you\n  I stop your heartbeat with heat\n  You're weak, I'll leave your blood spillin' in the street\n\n  Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n  Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n  Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\n  Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets (yeah)\n\n  Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n  Innocent bystanders get shot by standin'\n  Y'all shoulda ducked when y'all heard the cannon, now you layin' deceased\n  Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?) yeah, yeah\n\n  Ayo, Journalist what are you workin' with?\n  Old school burners with\n  Barrels big enough for you head to fit in the circle shit\n  What are you holdin', Canibus?\n\n  30-bullet banana clips\n  Just to handle the kick, I gotta glue it to my hands and shit\n  We got permits to murder shit\n  We critically injure who deserve the shit, put 'em in a tourniquet\n\n  Bombproof Suburbans with tractor-tread tires\n  So we can ride through the dirt with it, drive over curbs with it\n  Merc in it, even over slippery surfaces we can swerve in it\n  And crash into niggaz who don't deserve they shit\n  Try stoppin' the dudes, you gotta be bruised\n  Cockin' the tools that knock you out your socks and your shoes\n\n  We'll leave you shoe less and keep shootin'\n  Look how much life liquid you losin', you need a blood transfusion\n  In the back of a medic truck, shots in your neck and gut\n  While we holdin' our weapons up, I'm still reppin' Philly, what?\n\n  Blood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?)\n  Blood spillin' in the streets\n  Blood spillin' in the streets (the what, the what?)\n  Blood spillin' in the streets\n\n  Niggas take it for granted until they layin' dead on the granite (the what, the what?)\n  Innocent bystanders get shot by standin' (the what, the what?)\n  Y'all better duck when you hear the cannon or y'all be checkin' for leaks (the what, the what?)\n  Niggas they'll leave your blood spillin' in the streets\n\n  (The what, the what?)\n  (The what, the what?)\n"},{"id":14569497,"name":"I'll Buss 'em U Punish 'em Ft. Rakim","trackName":"I'll Buss 'em U Punish 'em Ft. Rakim","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":247.510204,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Yeah! I'll buss 'em, and you punish 'em\nUh! Yeah!\n\nLemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nRa! Lemme buss 'em! (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nNah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nC'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, you can punish 'em)\n\nYo! Yo! Now on some battlin' shit, my verbal lateral grip\nKeeps my tongue glued to the ADAT when I'm trackin' my shit\nLet my spit lubricate the chap on my lips\nAnd make you rappers have fits 'cause I'm back in the mix\nFuck a pad and a pen, write rhymes on a IBM\nEbonics is dead, the binary language is in\nCanibus practices in a room with a thousand candles lit\nMeditatin' on this rap shit\nBecause my freestyle reigns sovereign\nWith a deeper conscience than the prophet Muhammad was born with\nMy brain cavity is enormous\nMy left hemisphere alone harnesses all of the seven chakras\nWhile the right one harnesses darkness\nThe type of dark that makes a house haunted\nThe type of dark that niggas get lost in\nThe type of dark you fear when you dead in the coffin\nI hear you talkin', but I ignore it\n'Cause it's garbage and your rhyme's borin'\nSo keep standin' on the corner, the trash man'll collect you in the morning\nThug cats frontin', wacker than Blinky Blink\nOn the back of the Raptor Wagon babblin' about nothin'\nFuck that! Real Rugrats can get it on, black!\nMeet me at The Tunnel where pussy niggas get mugged at!\nSo dark, you'll never see the blood splat\nAnd you can't even react 'cause the trunk is where you keep your guns at\nNow you on speed 'cause you too scared to come back\nYou can't even breathe, the weed suffocates your lung sacs\nFake MC's haul ass like they runnin' track\nWherever Canibus or Rakim is at!\n\nLemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nNah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nRa! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nNah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nNah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nRa! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nNah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nC'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, lemme punish 'em)\n\nBe ready and at your best, the Celebrity Match of Death\nHeart snatched through your chest, cardiac arrest\nCrack your neck while I break your arms, catch your breath\nThen I ask the ref, \"How many cats is left?\"\nOne-on-one, who challengin'? Come get did\nAll I have is a pen and punishin' kids\nAbdomen punctured in, look what I done to his wig\nWanna live? Then I stab 'em in the lung with his rib\nEvery word I say detach a vertebrae from your spine\nRematch wherever we meet at, any place, any time\nGet your snot-box smashed with a nine, smacked with a rhyme\nPush your forehead to the back of your mind\nTry to explain what it's like seein' your brain\nYou insane, who's gonna ID the remains?\nAnd then I reincarnate 'em, and kill 'em again\nAgain and again, again and again, c'mon\n\nLemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nNah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nRa! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nNah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nNah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nRa! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nNah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\nC'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, lemme punish 'em)\n\nYo! Yo! Yo! he started the battle with a grapple\nThe nigga had long hair\nSo I grabbed a handful and chopped him in the Adam's apple\nHis partner in back of you tried to attack you\nSo I'mma twist 'em up like a pretzel then I'mma tag you\nI'm on some Stone Cold shit, warn your whole clique\nCartilage get torn until the whole bone split\nWho wanna spit? Bang 'em quick, strangle 'em wit' his lip\nTry to flip, leave his body danglin' by his hip\nRa, you left him danglin', I can't believe he tryna grapple again\nI swing him around like I'm dancin' with him\nPut his arms in back of his head and snap him again\nFractured his limbs and put him in the figure 6 subtracted from 10\nSeven birds make 'em swerve 'til they vision is blurred\nTurn cats that souped from superb to nerds\nJust say the word, I'll leave your DNA on the curb\nThen stick my dick in your ear, and fuck what you heard!\n\nLemme finish 'em (Nah! It's time to pin 'em)\nRa! Lemme finish 'em (Nah! I'ma pin 'em)\nNah! Lemme finish 'em (Nah! It's time to pin 'em)\nC'mon, Ra! Lemme finish 'em (Nah, 'Bis, I'ma put an end to 'em)\n-- Synce by NoMan --\n","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.05] Yeah! I'll buss 'em, and you punish 'em\n[00:07.90] Uh! Yeah!\n\n[00:09.45] Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[00:11.57] Ra! Lemme buss 'em! (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[00:14.01] Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[00:16.45] C'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, you can punish 'em)\n\n[00:18.89] Yo! Yo! Now on some battlin' shit, my verbal lateral grip\n[00:21.97] Keeps my tongue glued to the ADAT when I'm trackin' my shit\n[00:24.70] Let my spit lubricate the chap on my lips\n[00:26.73] And make you rappers have fits 'cause I'm back in the mix\n[00:29.25] Fuck a pad and a pen, write rhymes on a IBM\n[00:31.85] Ebonics is dead, the binary language is in\n[00:34.17] Canibus practices in a room with a thousand candles lit\n[00:37.21] Meditatin' on this rap shit\n[00:38.93] Because my freestyle reigns sovereign\n[00:41.18] With a deeper conscience than the prophet Muhammad was born with\n[00:44.25] My brain cavity is enormous\n[00:46.06] My left hemisphere alone harnesses all of the seven chakras\n[00:49.17] While the right one harnesses darkness\n[00:50.94] The type of dark that makes a house haunted\n[00:52.73] The type of dark that niggas get lost in\n[00:54.57] The type of dark you fear when you dead in the coffin\n[00:57.06] I hear you talkin', but I ignore it\n[00:59.05] 'Cause it's garbage and your rhyme's borin'\n[01:00.85] So keep standin' on the corner, the trash man'll collect you in the morning\n[01:04.13] Thug cats frontin', wacker than Blinky Blink\n[01:06.65] On the back of the Raptor Wagon babblin' about nothin'\n[01:09.10] Fuck that! Real Rugrats can get it on, black!\n[01:11.65] Meet me at The Tunnel where pussy niggas get mugged at!\n[01:14.06] So dark, you'll never see the blood splat\n[01:16.17] And you can't even react 'cause the trunk is where you keep your guns at\n[01:19.02] Now you on speed 'cause you too scared to come back\n[01:21.49] You can't even breathe, the weed suffocates your lung sacs\n[01:24.02] Fake MC's haul ass like they runnin' track\n[01:26.61] Wherever Canibus or Rakim is at!\n\n[01:28.78] Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[01:30.81] Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[01:33.21] Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[01:35.58] Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[01:38.14] Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[01:40.49] Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[01:43.02] Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[01:45.57] C'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, lemme punish 'em)\n\n[01:48.26] Be ready and at your best, the Celebrity Match of Death\n[01:50.94] Heart snatched through your chest, cardiac arrest\n[01:53.33] Crack your neck while I break your arms, catch your breath\n[01:55.93] Then I ask the ref, \"How many cats is left?\"\n[01:58.30] One-on-one, who challengin'? Come get did\n[02:00.82] All I have is a pen and punishin' kids\n[02:03.25] Abdomen punctured in, look what I done to his wig\n[02:05.70] Wanna live? Then I stab 'em in the lung with his rib\n[02:08.14] Every word I say detach a vertebrae from your spine\n[02:10.62] Rematch wherever we meet at, any place, any time\n[02:13.18] Get your snot-box smashed with a nine, smacked with a rhyme\n[02:15.93] Push your forehead to the back of your mind\n[02:18.05] Try to explain what it's like seein' your brain\n[02:20.58] You insane, who's gonna ID the remains?\n[02:23.01] And then I reincarnate 'em, and kill 'em again\n[02:25.54] Again and again, again and again, c'mon\n\n[02:28.29] Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[02:30.09] Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[02:32.50] Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[02:34.98] Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[02:37.49] Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[02:39.94] Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[02:42.42] Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n[02:44.90] C'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, lemme punish 'em)\n\n[02:47.37] Yo! Yo! Yo! he started the battle with a grapple\n[02:49.57] The nigga had long hair\n[02:50.94] So I grabbed a handful and chopped him in the Adam's apple\n[02:53.06] His partner in back of you tried to attack you\n[02:55.58] So I'mma twist 'em up like a pretzel then I'mma tag you\n[02:57.97] I'm on some Stone Cold shit, warn your whole clique\n[03:00.34] Cartilage get torn until the whole bone split\n[03:02.74] Who wanna spit? Bang 'em quick, strangle 'em wit' his lip\n[03:05.05] Try to flip, leave his body danglin' by his hip\n[03:07.66] Ra, you left him danglin', I can't believe he tryna grapple again\n[03:10.01] I swing him around like I'm dancin' with him\n[03:11.90] Put his arms in back of his head and snap him again\n[03:14.38] Fractured his limbs and put him in the figure 6 subtracted from 10\n[03:17.54] Seven birds make 'em swerve 'til they vision is blurred\n[03:20.01] Turn cats that souped from superb to nerds\n[03:22.34] Just say the word, I'll leave your DNA on the curb\n[03:24.81] Then stick my dick in your ear, and fuck what you heard!\n\n[03:27.63] Lemme finish 'em (Nah! It's time to pin 'em)\n[03:29.53] Ra! Lemme finish 'em (Nah! I'ma pin 'em)\n[03:31.94] Nah! Lemme finish 'em (Nah! It's time to pin 'em)\n[03:34.41] C'mon, Ra! Lemme finish 'em (Nah, 'Bis, I'ma put an end to 'em)\n[03:42.30] -- Synce by NoMan --\n[03:56.03] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: I'll Buss 'em U Punish 'em Ft. Rakim\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 247510\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Yeah! I'll buss 'em, and you punish 'em\n  start_ms: 3050\n  end_ms: 7900\n- text: Uh! Yeah!\n  start_ms: 7900\n  end_ms: 9450\n- text: Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 9450\n  end_ms: 11570\n- text: Ra! Lemme buss 'em! (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 11570\n  end_ms: 14010\n- text: Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 14010\n  end_ms: 16450\n- text: C'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, you can punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 16450\n  end_ms: 18890\n- text: Yo! Yo! Now on some battlin' shit, my verbal lateral grip\n  start_ms: 18890\n  end_ms: 21970\n- text: Keeps my tongue glued to the ADAT when I'm trackin' my shit\n  start_ms: 21970\n  end_ms: 24700\n- text: Let my spit lubricate the chap on my lips\n  start_ms: 24700\n  end_ms: 26730\n- text: And make you rappers have fits 'cause I'm back in the mix\n  start_ms: 26730\n  end_ms: 29250\n- text: Fuck a pad and a pen, write rhymes on a IBM\n  start_ms: 29250\n  end_ms: 31850\n- text: Ebonics is dead, the binary language is in\n  start_ms: 31850\n  end_ms: 34170\n- text: Canibus practices in a room with a thousand candles lit\n  start_ms: 34170\n  end_ms: 37210\n- text: Meditatin' on this rap shit\n  start_ms: 37210\n  end_ms: 38930\n- text: Because my freestyle reigns sovereign\n  start_ms: 38930\n  end_ms: 41180\n- text: With a deeper conscience than the prophet Muhammad was born with\n  start_ms: 41180\n  end_ms: 44250\n- text: My brain cavity is enormous\n  start_ms: 44250\n  end_ms: 46060\n- text: My left hemisphere alone harnesses all of the seven chakras\n  start_ms: 46060\n  end_ms: 49170\n- text: While the right one harnesses darkness\n  start_ms: 49170\n  end_ms: 50940\n- text: The type of dark that makes a house haunted\n  start_ms: 50940\n  end_ms: 52730\n- text: The type of dark that niggas get lost in\n  start_ms: 52730\n  end_ms: 54570\n- text: The type of dark you fear when you dead in the coffin\n  start_ms: 54570\n  end_ms: 57060\n- text: I hear you talkin', but I ignore it\n  start_ms: 57060\n  end_ms: 59050\n- text: '''Cause it''s garbage and your rhyme''s borin'''\n  start_ms: 59050\n  end_ms: 60850\n- text: So keep standin' on the corner, the trash man'll collect you in the morning\n  start_ms: 60850\n  end_ms: 64130\n- text: Thug cats frontin', wacker than Blinky Blink\n  start_ms: 64130\n  end_ms: 66650\n- text: On the back of the Raptor Wagon babblin' about nothin'\n  start_ms: 66650\n  end_ms: 69100\n- text: Fuck that! Real Rugrats can get it on, black!\n  start_ms: 69100\n  end_ms: 71650\n- text: Meet me at The Tunnel where pussy niggas get mugged at!\n  start_ms: 71650\n  end_ms: 74060\n- text: So dark, you'll never see the blood splat\n  start_ms: 74060\n  end_ms: 76170\n- text: And you can't even react 'cause the trunk is where you keep your guns at\n  start_ms: 76170\n  end_ms: 79020\n- text: Now you on speed 'cause you too scared to come back\n  start_ms: 79020\n  end_ms: 81490\n- text: You can't even breathe, the weed suffocates your lung sacs\n  start_ms: 81490\n  end_ms: 84020\n- text: Fake MC's haul ass like they runnin' track\n  start_ms: 84020\n  end_ms: 86610\n- text: Wherever Canibus or Rakim is at!\n  start_ms: 86610\n  end_ms: 88780\n- text: Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 88780\n  end_ms: 90810\n- text: Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 90810\n  end_ms: 93210\n- text: Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 93210\n  end_ms: 95580\n- text: Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 95580\n  end_ms: 98140\n- text: Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 98140\n  end_ms: 100490\n- text: Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 100490\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105570\n- text: C'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, lemme punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 105570\n  end_ms: 108260\n- text: Be ready and at your best, the Celebrity Match of Death\n  start_ms: 108260\n  end_ms: 110940\n- text: Heart snatched through your chest, cardiac arrest\n  start_ms: 110940\n  end_ms: 113330\n- text: Crack your neck while I break your arms, catch your breath\n  start_ms: 113330\n  end_ms: 115930\n- text: Then I ask the ref, \"How many cats is left?\"\n  start_ms: 115930\n  end_ms: 118300\n- text: One-on-one, who challengin'? Come get did\n  start_ms: 118300\n  end_ms: 120820\n- text: All I have is a pen and punishin' kids\n  start_ms: 120820\n  end_ms: 123250\n- text: Abdomen punctured in, look what I done to his wig\n  start_ms: 123250\n  end_ms: 125700\n- text: Wanna live? Then I stab 'em in the lung with his rib\n  start_ms: 125700\n  end_ms: 128140\n- text: Every word I say detach a vertebrae from your spine\n  start_ms: 128140\n  end_ms: 130620\n- text: Rematch wherever we meet at, any place, any time\n  start_ms: 130620\n  end_ms: 133180\n- text: Get your snot-box smashed with a nine, smacked with a rhyme\n  start_ms: 133180\n  end_ms: 135930\n- text: Push your forehead to the back of your mind\n  start_ms: 135930\n  end_ms: 138050\n- text: Try to explain what it's like seein' your brain\n  start_ms: 138050\n  end_ms: 140580\n- text: You insane, who's gonna ID the remains?\n  start_ms: 140580\n  end_ms: 143010\n- text: And then I reincarnate 'em, and kill 'em again\n  start_ms: 143010\n  end_ms: 145540\n- text: Again and again, again and again, c'mon\n  start_ms: 145540\n  end_ms: 148290\n- text: Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 148290\n  end_ms: 150090\n- text: Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 150090\n  end_ms: 152500\n- text: Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 152500\n  end_ms: 154980\n- text: Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 154980\n  end_ms: 157490\n- text: Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 157490\n  end_ms: 159940\n- text: Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 159940\n  end_ms: 162420\n- text: Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 162420\n  end_ms: 164900\n- text: C'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, lemme punish 'em)\n  start_ms: 164900\n  end_ms: 167370\n- text: Yo! Yo! Yo! he started the battle with a grapple\n  start_ms: 167370\n  end_ms: 169570\n- text: The nigga had long hair\n  start_ms: 169570\n  end_ms: 170940\n- text: So I grabbed a handful and chopped him in the Adam's apple\n  start_ms: 170940\n  end_ms: 173060\n- text: His partner in back of you tried to attack you\n  start_ms: 173060\n  end_ms: 175580\n- text: So I'mma twist 'em up like a pretzel then I'mma tag you\n  start_ms: 175580\n  end_ms: 177970\n- text: I'm on some Stone Cold shit, warn your whole clique\n  start_ms: 177970\n  end_ms: 180340\n- text: Cartilage get torn until the whole bone split\n  start_ms: 180340\n  end_ms: 182740\n- text: Who wanna spit? Bang 'em quick, strangle 'em wit' his lip\n  start_ms: 182740\n  end_ms: 185050\n- text: Try to flip, leave his body danglin' by his hip\n  start_ms: 185050\n  end_ms: 187660\n- text: Ra, you left him danglin', I can't believe he tryna grapple again\n  start_ms: 187660\n  end_ms: 190010\n- text: I swing him around like I'm dancin' with him\n  start_ms: 190010\n  end_ms: 191900\n- text: Put his arms in back of his head and snap him again\n  start_ms: 191900\n  end_ms: 194380\n- text: Fractured his limbs and put him in the figure 6 subtracted from 10\n  start_ms: 194380\n  end_ms: 197540\n- text: Seven birds make 'em swerve 'til they vision is blurred\n  start_ms: 197540\n  end_ms: 200010\n- text: Turn cats that souped from superb to nerds\n  start_ms: 200010\n  end_ms: 202340\n- text: Just say the word, I'll leave your DNA on the curb\n  start_ms: 202340\n  end_ms: 204810\n- text: Then stick my dick in your ear, and fuck what you heard!\n  start_ms: 204810\n  end_ms: 207630\n- text: Lemme finish 'em (Nah! It's time to pin 'em)\n  start_ms: 207630\n  end_ms: 209530\n- text: Ra! Lemme finish 'em (Nah! I'ma pin 'em)\n  start_ms: 209530\n  end_ms: 211940\n- text: Nah! Lemme finish 'em (Nah! It's time to pin 'em)\n  start_ms: 211940\n  end_ms: 214410\n- text: C'mon, Ra! Lemme finish 'em (Nah, 'Bis, I'ma put an end to 'em)\n  start_ms: 214410\n  end_ms: 222300\n- text: -- Synce by NoMan --\n  start_ms: 222300\n  end_ms: 236030\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 236030\nplain: |\n  Yeah! I'll buss 'em, and you punish 'em\n  Uh! Yeah!\n\n  Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Ra! Lemme buss 'em! (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  C'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, you can punish 'em)\n\n  Yo! Yo! Now on some battlin' shit, my verbal lateral grip\n  Keeps my tongue glued to the ADAT when I'm trackin' my shit\n  Let my spit lubricate the chap on my lips\n  And make you rappers have fits 'cause I'm back in the mix\n  Fuck a pad and a pen, write rhymes on a IBM\n  Ebonics is dead, the binary language is in\n  Canibus practices in a room with a thousand candles lit\n  Meditatin' on this rap shit\n  Because my freestyle reigns sovereign\n  With a deeper conscience than the prophet Muhammad was born with\n  My brain cavity is enormous\n  My left hemisphere alone harnesses all of the seven chakras\n  While the right one harnesses darkness\n  The type of dark that makes a house haunted\n  The type of dark that niggas get lost in\n  The type of dark you fear when you dead in the coffin\n  I hear you talkin', but I ignore it\n  'Cause it's garbage and your rhyme's borin'\n  So keep standin' on the corner, the trash man'll collect you in the morning\n  Thug cats frontin', wacker than Blinky Blink\n  On the back of the Raptor Wagon babblin' about nothin'\n  Fuck that! Real Rugrats can get it on, black!\n  Meet me at The Tunnel where pussy niggas get mugged at!\n  So dark, you'll never see the blood splat\n  And you can't even react 'cause the trunk is where you keep your guns at\n  Now you on speed 'cause you too scared to come back\n  You can't even breathe, the weed suffocates your lung sacs\n  Fake MC's haul ass like they runnin' track\n  Wherever Canibus or Rakim is at!\n\n  Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  C'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, lemme punish 'em)\n\n  Be ready and at your best, the Celebrity Match of Death\n  Heart snatched through your chest, cardiac arrest\n  Crack your neck while I break your arms, catch your breath\n  Then I ask the ref, \"How many cats is left?\"\n  One-on-one, who challengin'? Come get did\n  All I have is a pen and punishin' kids\n  Abdomen punctured in, look what I done to his wig\n  Wanna live? Then I stab 'em in the lung with his rib\n  Every word I say detach a vertebrae from your spine\n  Rematch wherever we meet at, any place, any time\n  Get your snot-box smashed with a nine, smacked with a rhyme\n  Push your forehead to the back of your mind\n  Try to explain what it's like seein' your brain\n  You insane, who's gonna ID the remains?\n  And then I reincarnate 'em, and kill 'em again\n  Again and again, again and again, c'mon\n\n  Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  Nah! Lemme buss 'em (Nah! I'ma punish 'em)\n  C'mon, Ra! Lemme buss 'em (Yo, 'Bis, lemme punish 'em)\n\n  Yo! Yo! Yo! he started the battle with a grapple\n  The nigga had long hair\n  So I grabbed a handful and chopped him in the Adam's apple\n  His partner in back of you tried to attack you\n  So I'mma twist 'em up like a pretzel then I'mma tag you\n  I'm on some Stone Cold shit, warn your whole clique\n  Cartilage get torn until the whole bone split\n  Who wanna spit? Bang 'em quick, strangle 'em wit' his lip\n  Try to flip, leave his body danglin' by his hip\n  Ra, you left him danglin', I can't believe he tryna grapple again\n  I swing him around like I'm dancin' with him\n  Put his arms in back of his head and snap him again\n  Fractured his limbs and put him in the figure 6 subtracted from 10\n  Seven birds make 'em swerve 'til they vision is blurred\n  Turn cats that souped from superb to nerds\n  Just say the word, I'll leave your DNA on the curb\n  Then stick my dick in your ear, and fuck what you heard!\n\n  Lemme finish 'em (Nah! It's time to pin 'em)\n  Ra! Lemme finish 'em (Nah! I'ma pin 'em)\n  Nah! Lemme finish 'em (Nah! It's time to pin 'em)\n  C'mon, Ra! Lemme finish 'em (Nah, 'Bis, I'ma put an end to 'em)\n  -- Synce by NoMan --\n"},{"id":14558336,"name":"Phuk U","trackName":"Phuk U","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":244.035918,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Canibus)\nYo, yo\nAyo, nobody can flow with 'Bis, rock a show with 'Bis\nOr go toe to toe with Bis, none of y'all can coexist\nWe living in an Ice Age, and it's cold as shit\nA hundred-thousand dollar price range; niggas is frozen stiff\nAll I know is this, my felt tip, hotter than Hell get\nA hundred eighty six thousand miles per sec can melt flesh\nGive a nigga a tan, aerosol cans expand and explode in my hand\nWhile I promote that new Canibus jam\nNiggas feel it underground with stalactites hanging from the ceiling\nI'm out on tour with thirty city trips\nEvery state is like bitches be bulimic for dicks\nScreaming the chorus, half unconscious, I hold my cordless\nSmoke the most enormous trees in the rain forest\nWhile the people go insane for us\nI pierce a cloud and make it rain on us\nBreak the equipment and tell the engineer that I ain't paying for it\nI freestyle the whole set\nKicking a hundred bars, nigga fuck who's on next\nPhuk U\n\n(Canibus)\nFuck them extra niggas that's always around you\nFuck niggas that talk about you and try to clown you\nFuck niggas you run into that never did nothing for you\nFuck niggas that's lying telling people they discovered you\nFuck niggas that's jealous 'cause you nicer than them\nDon't give a fuck who you offend you got to fight 'til the end\nIf you fuck a groupie chicken when you out on tour\nSmoke a little bit of weed with her then fuck her some more\nTell her to bring three friends so you can fuck all four\nMenage-a-trois, what the fuck she expect, you a dog\nAlmighty God blessed you with a dick and two balls\nSo if you like to fuck pussy that don't mean that you wrong\nUnless you fuck it raw dog, I fuck a nappy dug out\nBust in her mouth, kick her the fuck out\nShe'll cuss me out, like //\n\n(Canibus)\nYo, yo\nYour superstar status don't mean shit to me\nLyrically sucker emcees still get frequency\nTry to diss me now, how you sound?\nYo, whoever signed you, must be running the circus 'cause you a clown\nYou a rapper with a drug habit, hiding the truth\nCamouflaging your needle tracks with some colourful tattoos\nYou was never equipped for this, never equipped to spit with Bis\nI'm swift as shit, let me point out the main differences\nYou magnificent, I'm Mic-Nificent\nYo, I'd even go out on a limb with it, say you write a little bit\nThat don't make you a tight lyricist, cause you don't practice or stick with it\nLook at the sixty hour shifts I spend with this\nI never quit, I got a gift for the art\nA low maintenance cost, no physical moving parts\nIn ninety-eight, niggas thought I was God\nHow the fuck did that change, I'm still one of the illest niggas in the game\nSo look inside yourself and tell me what you see\nIf you see a hungry nigga then you looking at me\nAnd it's aight if you don't trust me, cause I don't trust you\nAs a matter of fact I'll probably bust you, mother fucker, fuck you //","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Phuk U\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 244036\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Canibus)\n  Yo, yo\n  Ayo, nobody can flow with 'Bis, rock a show with 'Bis\n  Or go toe to toe with Bis, none of y'all can coexist\n  We living in an Ice Age, and it's cold as shit\n  A hundred-thousand dollar price range; niggas is frozen stiff\n  All I know is this, my felt tip, hotter than Hell get\n  A hundred eighty six thousand miles per sec can melt flesh\n  Give a nigga a tan, aerosol cans expand and explode in my hand\n  While I promote that new Canibus jam\n  Niggas feel it underground with stalactites hanging from the ceiling\n  I'm out on tour with thirty city trips\n  Every state is like bitches be bulimic for dicks\n  Screaming the chorus, half unconscious, I hold my cordless\n  Smoke the most enormous trees in the rain forest\n  While the people go insane for us\n  I pierce a cloud and make it rain on us\n  Break the equipment and tell the engineer that I ain't paying for it\n  I freestyle the whole set\n  Kicking a hundred bars, nigga fuck who's on next\n  Phuk U\n\n  (Canibus)\n  Fuck them extra niggas that's always around you\n  Fuck niggas that talk about you and try to clown you\n  Fuck niggas you run into that never did nothing for you\n  Fuck niggas that's lying telling people they discovered you\n  Fuck niggas that's jealous 'cause you nicer than them\n  Don't give a fuck who you offend you got to fight 'til the end\n  If you fuck a groupie chicken when you out on tour\n  Smoke a little bit of weed with her then fuck her some more\n  Tell her to bring three friends so you can fuck all four\n  Menage-a-trois, what the fuck she expect, you a dog\n  Almighty God blessed you with a dick and two balls\n  So if you like to fuck pussy that don't mean that you wrong\n  Unless you fuck it raw dog, I fuck a nappy dug out\n  Bust in her mouth, kick her the fuck out\n  She'll cuss me out, like //\n\n  (Canibus)\n  Yo, yo\n  Your superstar status don't mean shit to me\n  Lyrically sucker emcees still get frequency\n  Try to diss me now, how you sound?\n  Yo, whoever signed you, must be running the circus 'cause you a clown\n  You a rapper with a drug habit, hiding the truth\n  Camouflaging your needle tracks with some colourful tattoos\n  You was never equipped for this, never equipped to spit with Bis\n  I'm swift as shit, let me point out the main differences\n  You magnificent, I'm Mic-Nificent\n  Yo, I'd even go out on a limb with it, say you write a little bit\n  That don't make you a tight lyricist, cause you don't practice or stick with it\n  Look at the sixty hour shifts I spend with this\n  I never quit, I got a gift for the art\n  A low maintenance cost, no physical moving parts\n  In ninety-eight, niggas thought I was God\n  How the fuck did that change, I'm still one of the illest niggas in the game\n  So look inside yourself and tell me what you see\n  If you see a hungry nigga then you looking at me\n  And it's aight if you don't trust me, cause I don't trust you\n  As a matter of fact I'll probably bust you, mother fucker, fuck you //\n"},{"id":14558976,"name":"Die Slow Ft. Journalist","trackName":"Die Slow Ft. Journalist","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":239.804082,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"(Canibus)\nYo, yeah \"Die slow\"\nYou niggas better \"Die slow\"\nAll you could do is die slow nigga \"Die slow\"\nAll you could do is die \"Die slow\"\nFuck y'all \"Die slow\"\n\"Die slow\" \"Die slow\" \"Die slow\"\n\n(Canibus)\nYou against me? No contest, my tongue hydraulics\nStrong enough to flip a sixty-four Impala with three adult passengers\nAnd a four-hundred pound driver\nAnd drown you in less than an ounce of your own saliva\nRubber-faced rappers get\nStretched like elastic Claymation characters with verbal vernacular\nSlapping you like a white-water rafter or an Olympic kayaker\nPaddling across the Niagara\nMy afterburners should be burning you after your body's already been splashed with acid\nAnd you turn into ashes\nAssassins camouflaged in the grass blasting\nLeaving blood all over your lady like Jackie Onassis\nI fly your body out of Dallas\nPerform plastic surgery while we're airborne and switch caskets\nThen lie to the masses\nI tell them that you got murdered over some East-West beef between rappers\nRadio stations'll express they sadness\nPlay classics back to back and pass out 'stop the violence' pamphlets\nJust imagine, every night your girl's fucking your best-friend\nWhile you're in Hell, throwing tantrums\nI be lamping in a mansion, somewhere out in the Hamptons\nGiving some pretty-ass bitch a spanking\nNigga you can't win, I'm laughing 'cause you a has-been\nYou can't get your groove back, so don't even bother asking Angela Bassett\nYou'll just get your ass kicked, get your head chopped off, and dropped in a basket\nMy left arm's taken but my right one's free\nThat means I can diss another motherfucking emcee\nWith rhymes that appear clearer than liquid crystal\nMy lyrical is more visual than television screen pixels\nI fire pistols, hit you with miniature missiles\nRiddle your body with holes, then watch the blood trickle\nYou probably had no idea what you was getting into\n'Cause on the mic, Can-I-Bus is invincible\nFuck you\n\n(Break)\n\"Die Slow\" through out the convo)\nHey Yo that nigga got an attitude\nYeah he be acting rude\nAnd he's always tryna battle you\nThat last album was terrible\nWhen he's on the radio he never got a clean mouth\nYeah everytime he freestyles, his words be gettin' bleeped out\nYou got the album?\nNaw I heard it was weak\nYou got the album?\nI said it was weak\nBut the shit don't come out till next week\nHey Yo I like the nigga's beats\nYo that shit be coming bugged out\nHey Yo that nigga Bis dumbs out\nHe waited too long to come out...\n\n(Journalist)\nTo you bitch niggas who talk a lot, but walk the block in halter tops\nLeft side of ya chest, mark the spot\nThat's where a nigga put it, when I'm hooded\nThen fill you up wit big bullets, prepare you for some channel 6 footage\nKnow what is, me and Bis running through your courtyard\nCreeping wit a four-five and reaching for your door knob\nThrow a gun under ya chin, see how quick your whore rise\nOne shot could have a short slide, right out the North side\nYour whole flow is porkrine, spit the small oints\nI'm nasty, but my small joints grip the bar point\nDrop on top of the blue line.right beside the red one\nKeep the flow fairsome, 'til the day my career done\nBring it to your ass if you the challenging type\nEspecially those surrounding the mic, sounding alike\nTo the Journ, y'all ain't no suitable spitters, true to you niggas\nLay you out on MD's, recouping ya liver\nShouting my name, ya best to control the noise soldier boy\nOr homicide will be all over you poys with Polaroids\n\n(CONVO 2)\n(\"Die Slow\" through out the convo)\nYea, yo that nigga Journalist gets busy yo\nI heard he's from Philly yo\nI seen him in Bis video\nHe's so skinny though\nNow he's rolling with Canibus?\nI don't even understand his shit\nThat nigga sounds like an amaetur\nYo i heard Jay manage him\nYo he got some heavy gold shit\nMan, that's some old shit\nYea yo the niggas that he roll with\nprobably let them hold it\nHe got alotta Benji's\nNo he don't\nEverytime, when i see him in the back of The Source\nHe looks ","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Die Slow Ft. Journalist\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 239804\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: \"(Canibus)\\nYo, yeah \\\"Die slow\\\"\\nYou niggas better \\\"Die slow\\\"\\nAll you could do is die slow nigga \\\"Die slow\\\"\\nAll you could do is die \\\"Die slow\\\"\\nFuck y'all \\\"Die slow\\\"\\n\\\"Die slow\\\" \\\"Die slow\\\" \\\"Die slow\\\"\\n\\n(Canibus)\\nYou against me? No contest, my tongue hydraulics\\nStrong enough to flip a sixty-four Impala with three adult passengers\\nAnd a four-hundred pound driver\\nAnd drown you in less than an ounce of your own saliva\\nRubber-faced rappers get\\nStretched like elastic Claymation characters with verbal vernacular\\nSlapping you like a white-water rafter or an Olympic kayaker\\nPaddling across the Niagara\\nMy afterburners should be burning you after your body's already been splashed with acid\\nAnd you turn into ashes\\nAssassins camouflaged in the grass blasting\\nLeaving blood all over your lady like Jackie Onassis\\nI fly your body out of Dallas\\nPerform plastic surgery while we're airborne and switch caskets\\nThen lie to the masses\\nI tell them that you got murdered over some East-West beef between rappers\\nRadio stations'll express they sadness\\nPlay classics back to back and pass out 'stop the violence' pamphlets\\nJust imagine, every night your girl's fucking your best-friend\\nWhile you're in Hell, throwing tantrums\\nI be lamping in a mansion, somewhere out in the Hamptons\\nGiving some pretty-ass bitch a spanking\\nNigga you can't win, I'm laughing 'cause you a has-been\\nYou can't get your groove back, so don't even bother asking Angela Bassett\\nYou'll just get your ass kicked, get your head chopped off, and dropped in a basket\\nMy left arm's taken but my right one's free\\nThat means I can diss another motherfucking emcee\\nWith rhymes that appear clearer than liquid crystal\\nMy lyrical is more visual than television screen pixels\\nI fire pistols, hit you with miniature missiles\\nRiddle your body with holes, then watch the blood trickle\\nYou probably had no idea what you was getting into\\n'Cause on the mic, Can-I-Bus is invincible\\nFuck you\\n\\n(Break)\\n\\\"Die Slow\\\" through out the convo)\\nHey Yo that nigga got an attitude\\nYeah he be acting rude\\nAnd he's always tryna battle you\\nThat last album was terrible\\nWhen he's on the radio he never got a clean mouth\\nYeah everytime he freestyles, his words be gettin' bleeped out\\nYou got the album?\\nNaw I heard it was weak\\nYou got the album?\\nI said it was weak\\nBut the shit don't come out till next week\\nHey Yo I like the nigga's beats\\nYo that shit be coming bugged out\\nHey Yo that nigga Bis dumbs out\\nHe waited too long to come out...\\n\\n(Journalist)\\nTo you bitch niggas who talk a lot, but walk the block in halter tops\\nLeft side of ya chest, mark the spot\\nThat's where a nigga put it, when I'm hooded\\nThen fill you up wit big bullets, prepare you for some channel 6 footage\\nKnow what is, me and Bis running through your courtyard\\nCreeping wit a four-five and reaching for your door knob\\nThrow a gun under ya chin, see how quick your whore rise\\nOne shot could have a short slide, right out the North side\\nYour whole flow is porkrine, spit the small oints\\nI'm nasty, but my small joints grip the bar point\\nDrop on top of the blue line.right beside the red one\\nKeep the flow fairsome, 'til the day my career done\\nBring it to your ass if you the challenging type\\nEspecially those surrounding the mic, sounding alike\\nTo the Journ, y'all ain't no suitable spitters, true to you niggas\\nLay you out on MD's, recouping ya liver\\nShouting my name, ya best to control the noise soldier boy\\nOr homicide will be all over you poys with Polaroids\\n\\n(CONVO 2)\\n(\\\"Die Slow\\\" through out the convo)\\nYea, yo that nigga Journalist gets busy yo\\nI heard he's from Philly yo\\nI seen him in Bis video\\nHe's so skinny though\\nNow he's rolling with Canibus?\\nI don't even understand his shit\\nThat nigga sounds like an amaetur\\nYo i heard Jay manage him\\nYo he got some heavy gold shit\\nMan, that's some old shit\\nYea yo the niggas that he roll with\\nprobably let them hold it\\nHe got alotta Benji's\\nNo he don't\\nEverytime, when i see him in the back of The Source\\nHe looks \"\n"}]