[{"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":18958637,"name":"Horsemen","trackName":"Horsemen","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C.","duration":84.04125,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"f/ Pharoahe Monch\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nYo yo\nThe sheer fucking assembling of these fo' niggas rekindling war\nSeek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all four's\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 blowing by me crystallizing your mind\nThe government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\nClaiming 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\nBringing a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\nSeige 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 to 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\n(Canibus) (Horsemen)\nWe rock quadrupeds (Horsemen, enforce men)\nChop off your fucking head (We the Horsemen, enforce men)\nLeave you all dead then we eat your car-cus\n(The Horsemen) I'm a Horseman (enforce men)\nI'm a Horseman (The Horsemen)\nI'm a Horseman (The forcemen)\nWE THE HORSEMEN!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Horsemen\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C.\n  duration_ms: 84041\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  f/ Pharoahe Monch\n\n  (Pharoahe Monch)\n  Yo yo\n  The sheer fucking assembling of these fo' niggas rekindling war\n  Seek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all four's\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 blowing by me crystallizing your mind\n  The government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\n  Claiming 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  Bringing a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\n  Seige 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 to 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  (Canibus) (Horsemen)\n  We rock quadrupeds (Horsemen, enforce men)\n  Chop off your fucking head (We the Horsemen, enforce men)\n  Leave you all dead then we eat your car-cus\n  (The Horsemen) I'm a Horseman (enforce men)\n  I'm a Horseman (The Horsemen)\n  I'm a Horseman (The forcemen)\n  WE THE HORSEMEN!\n"},{"id":13476396,"name":"HORSEMEN","trackName":"HORSEMEN","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000B.C","duration":82.137,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"f/ Pharoahe Monch\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nYo yo\nThe sheer fucking assembling of these fo' niggas rekindling war\nSeek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all four's\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 blowing by me crystallizing your mind\nThe government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\nClaiming 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\nBringing a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\nSeige 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 to 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\n(Canibus) (Horsemen)\nWe rock quadrupeds (Horsemen, enforce men)\nChop off your fucking head (We the Horsemen, enforce men)\nLeave you all dead then we eat your car-cus\n(The Horsemen) I'm a Horseman (enforce men)\nI'm a Horseman (The Horsemen)\nI'm a Horseman (The forcemen)\nWE THE HORSEMEN!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: HORSEMEN\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000B.C\n  duration_ms: 82137\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  f/ Pharoahe Monch\n\n  (Pharoahe Monch)\n  Yo yo\n  The sheer fucking assembling of these fo' niggas rekindling war\n  Seek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all four's\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 blowing by me crystallizing your mind\n  The government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\n  Claiming 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  Bringing a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\n  Seige 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 to 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  (Canibus) (Horsemen)\n  We rock quadrupeds (Horsemen, enforce men)\n  Chop off your fucking head (We the Horsemen, enforce men)\n  Leave you all dead then we eat your car-cus\n  (The Horsemen) I'm a Horseman (enforce men)\n  I'm a Horseman (The Horsemen)\n  I'm a Horseman (The forcemen)\n  WE THE HORSEMEN!\n"},{"id":13632202,"name":"Horsemen","trackName":"Horsemen","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C.","duration":81.870312,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"f/ Pharoahe Monch\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nYo yo\nThe sheer fucking assembling of these fo' niggas rekindling war\nSeek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all four's\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 blowing by me crystallizing your mind\nThe government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\nClaiming 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\nBringing a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\nSeige 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 to 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\n(Canibus) (Horsemen)\nWe rock quadrupeds (Horsemen, enforce men)\nChop off your fucking head (We the Horsemen, enforce men)\nLeave you all dead then we eat your car-cus\n(The Horsemen) I'm a Horseman (enforce men)\nI'm a Horseman (The Horsemen)\nI'm a Horseman (The forcemen)\nWE THE HORSEMEN!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Horsemen\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C.\n  duration_ms: 81870\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  f/ Pharoahe Monch\n\n  (Pharoahe Monch)\n  Yo yo\n  The sheer fucking assembling of these fo' niggas rekindling war\n  Seek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all four's\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 blowing by me crystallizing your mind\n  The government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\n  Claiming 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  Bringing a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\n  Seige 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 to 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  (Canibus) (Horsemen)\n  We rock quadrupeds (Horsemen, enforce men)\n  Chop off your fucking head (We the Horsemen, enforce men)\n  Leave you all dead then we eat your car-cus\n  (The Horsemen) I'm a Horseman (enforce men)\n  I'm a Horseman (The Horsemen)\n  I'm a Horseman (The forcemen)\n  WE THE HORSEMEN!\n"},{"id":26192861,"name":"Horsemen","trackName":"Horsemen","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":359.592,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"f/ Pharoahe Monch\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nYo yo\nThe sheer fucking assembling of these fo' niggas rekindling war\nSeek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all four's\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 blowing by me crystallizing your mind\nThe government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\nClaiming 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\nBringing a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\nSeige 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 to 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\n(Canibus) (Horsemen)\nWe rock quadrupeds (Horsemen, enforce men)\nChop off your fucking head (We the Horsemen, enforce men)\nLeave you all dead then we eat your car-cus\n(The Horsemen) I'm a Horseman (enforce men)\nI'm a Horseman (The Horsemen)\nI'm a Horseman (The forcemen)\nWE THE HORSEMEN!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Horsemen\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 359592\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  f/ Pharoahe Monch\n\n  (Pharoahe Monch)\n  Yo yo\n  The sheer fucking assembling of these fo' niggas rekindling war\n  Seek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all four's\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 blowing by me crystallizing your mind\n  The government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\n  Claiming 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  Bringing a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\n  Seige 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 to 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  (Canibus) (Horsemen)\n  We rock quadrupeds (Horsemen, enforce men)\n  Chop off your fucking head (We the Horsemen, enforce men)\n  Leave you all dead then we eat your car-cus\n  (The Horsemen) I'm a Horseman (enforce men)\n  I'm a Horseman (The Horsemen)\n  I'm a Horseman (The forcemen)\n  WE THE HORSEMEN!\n"},{"id":26163620,"name":"Horsemen","trackName":"Horsemen","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)","duration":4.297313,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"f/ Pharoahe Monch\n\n(Pharoahe Monch)\nYo yo\nThe sheer fucking assembling of these fo' niggas rekindling war\nSeek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all four's\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 blowing by me crystallizing your mind\nThe government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\nClaiming 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\nBringing a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\nSeige 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 to 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\n(Canibus) (Horsemen)\nWe rock quadrupeds (Horsemen, enforce men)\nChop off your fucking head (We the Horsemen, enforce men)\nLeave you all dead then we eat your car-cus\n(The Horsemen) I'm a Horseman (enforce men)\nI'm a Horseman (The Horsemen)\nI'm a Horseman (The forcemen)\nWE THE HORSEMEN!","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Horsemen\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)\n  duration_ms: 4297\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  f/ Pharoahe Monch\n\n  (Pharoahe Monch)\n  Yo yo\n  The sheer fucking assembling of these fo' niggas rekindling war\n  Seek the Horsemen, we walk the planet Earth on all four's\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 blowing by me crystallizing your mind\n  The government assigned sentinels for Horsemen elimination\n  Claiming 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  Bringing a nation of MC's to their knees wit ease\n  Seige 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 to 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  (Canibus) (Horsemen)\n  We rock quadrupeds (Horsemen, enforce men)\n  Chop off your fucking head (We the Horsemen, enforce men)\n  Leave you all dead then we eat your car-cus\n  (The Horsemen) I'm a Horseman (enforce men)\n  I'm a Horseman (The Horsemen)\n  I'm a Horseman (The forcemen)\n  WE THE HORSEMEN!\n"},{"id":25166499,"name":"Horsemen Talk","trackName":"Horsemen Talk","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"Mic Club: Mixtape Master, Volume 1","duration":290.115918,"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: Horsemen Talk\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 'Mic Club: Mixtape Master, Volume 1'\n  duration_ms: 290116\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":27379600,"name":"Horsemen Talk","trackName":"Horsemen Talk","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"The Masterpiece Collection","duration":290.0,"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: Horsemen Talk\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: The Masterpiece Collection\n  duration_ms: 290000\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":38959587,"name":"Horsemen Talk","trackName":"Horsemen Talk","artistName":"Canibus","albumName":"Mic Club: Mixtape Master, Volume 1","duration":288.0,"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: Horsemen Talk\n  artist: Canibus\n  album: 'Mic Club: Mixtape Master, Volume 1'\n  duration_ms: 288000\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":16008564,"name":"Horsemen Talk","trackName":"Horsemen Talk","artistName":"Canibus, Killah Priest, Kurupt","albumName":"The Masterpiece Collection","duration":290.0,"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: Horsemen Talk\n  artist: Canibus, Killah Priest, Kurupt\n  album: The Masterpiece Collection\n  duration_ms: 290000\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":16008607,"name":"Horsemen Talk","trackName":"Horsemen Talk","artistName":"Canibus, Killah Priest, Kurupt & Ras Kass","albumName":"The Masterpiece Collection","duration":290.0,"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: Horsemen Talk\n  artist: Canibus, Killah Priest, Kurupt & Ras Kass\n  album: The Masterpiece Collection\n  duration_ms: 290000\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":29359617,"name":"Horsemen Talk","trackName":"Horsemen Talk","artistName":"Canibus feat. Killah Priest, Kurupt & Ras Kass","albumName":"Mic Club: Mixtape Master, Volume 1","duration":290.0,"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: Horsemen Talk\n  artist: Canibus feat. Killah Priest, Kurupt & Ras Kass\n  album: 'Mic Club: Mixtape Master, Volume 1'\n  duration_ms: 290000\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":24471414,"name":"Inner G (feat. Ras Kass, Canibus & Kurupt) (4 Horsemen)","trackName":"Inner G (feat. Ras Kass, Canibus & Kurupt) (4 Horsemen)","artistName":"Killah Priest","albumName":"The Offering","duration":267.337143,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I hide my face like the Elephant Man\nFollow, you reach out of long black sleeves with skeleton hands\nTouch rappers, watch them rot, they skin fall off\nBoil in the pavement on a cold boardwalk\nThen I laugh like the Joker while pissing on them\nThen put on my hood, wait on the next corner\nThe next victim look in his face with tears in my eyes\nThat crystalize and turn into stone before they fall from my dome\nLike an avalanche, the way I spit sound like an African chant\nThe Priest run through MC's like I'm trampling ants\nPeep the form, it's the Vatican stance\nThe Pope Victor the First, the flow spit with a curse\nSicker the verse, the more bodies we stick in the dirt\nWait around, I'mma pick you a hearse\nI like the long black ones, drive around while spinning on two wheels\nIt's whatever you feel, blue steel\nOn black days, silver clouds when the MAC spray\nTurn rappers back into clay\nMy mind's a museum filled with microphone exhibits\nOf rhymes that I write that look like pictures\n\nAyo, my technique is berserk\nA predator, y'all niggas pull your fucking skin off like a T-shirt\nRetort, no remorse\nDonate aborted rappers for stem cell research\nI spit a few bars and niggas is FUBAR\nYou wouldn't ride on me if you was driving two cars, homie\nThe mind of Caesar Augustus\nRocking a Caesar, eating a Caesar salad in August, plus\nI'm illustrious, I been with the Moors\nBorn and raised in L.A. by Monster Kody\nSlowly chose the dark side for ice cold 40's\nLike Obi-Wan Kenobi with an iced-out Rollie\nAnd might fuck a white bitch, don't get it fucked up\nLove black chicks but they don't like to suck nuts\nSo tell me what the hell am I supposed to do?\nIt's like sipping sizzurp in Houston, I'm supposed to screw\nTalk slimy like okra\nT-Bo shit backwards just to make Harpo out of Oprah\nRas spit sicker than most groups put together\n'Cause y'all put together, I put foot to leather\nAnd walk over dead bodies like Rise of the Machines\nDon't be surprised, nigga, it's Edi Amin\nRappers get ate up like the number on Kobe's jersey\nGoddammit, I popped a clergy\n\nCanibus, the only MC on Earth\nThat did geophysical research about the new rebirth\nThe Sun turn the Earth to rotisserie dirt\nListen 'fore you start dissing me first, this'll be worse\nTwelve degree pole shift, displace the ocean\nThey send space probes in and come back broken\nArmageddon omen, Planet X inbound and rapidly approaching\nNone of us are chosen\nField manual 2-0-4-6\nYour life's getting away, you better run for it\nPopulation reduction, mass destruction\nThe reset button is coming and some of us love it\nThe return of Nibiru, we will prepare you\nStay away from the media, they will scare you\nRappers respect beef, tactics and technique\nI'mma show you how the best compete, let's beef\nMy verse on the mic is a surgical strike\nOf herbal delight with no personal life\nLive Saturday Night, sacrifice, batter the mic\nJab to the left, jab to the right\n\nI'm the scripture sculptor, volcanic\nYou ignoramus, I'm the future, volcanic vulture\nFirebird, I fire words, catch this cannon\nAll opponents, poetry Leonis Spartan\nYou just can't sink me\nShots, Hell's Kitchen 'til I'm sinky\nSince I was born it's all about roaming\nSince the Roman wars I been Caesar\nMaster of seizures, master of diseases\nThroughout the legions, temperatures beyond degrees\nTerrifying like Saddam in legions, ingenious\nFuck ya, I don't wanna have to bust you open\nBut I think you're looking too closely\nAnd I don't wanna have to bust your eyes\nFuck it, fuck your eyes, fuck your mama, fuck the drama\nWho needs it? Who like it? Who bleeds it?\nWho think it? Who smoke it? Who drink it?\nMotherfucker, I'mma start shrinking\nEach and every one of you niggas, you're just particles\nYou walk in and get read like articles\nShredding, I'mma teach all y'all how to start poetry beheading\nI'm the Headless Horseman, nigga, read the prescription\nTry it once, instantaneous addiction\nIf you ever wanna see me\nH-O-R-S-E-M-E-N, nigga","syncedLyrics":"[00:23.27] I hide my face like the Elephant Man\n[00:25.39] Follow, you reach out of long black sleeves with skeleton hands\n[00:28.60] Touch rappers, watch them rot, they skin fall off\n[00:31.21] Boil in the pavement on a cold boardwalk\n[00:33.82] Then I laugh like the Joker while pissing on them\n[00:36.32] Then put on my hood, wait on the next corner\n[00:38.90] The next victim look in his face with tears in my eyes\n[00:41.59] That crystalize and turn into stone before they fall from my dome\n[00:44.96] Like an avalanche, the way I spit sound like an African chant\n[00:48.46] The Priest run through MC's like I'm trampling ants\n[00:50.94] Peep the form, it's the Vatican stance\n[00:52.71] The Pope Victor the First, the flow spit with a curse\n[00:55.47] Sicker the verse, the more bodies we stick in the dirt\n[00:58.11] Wait around, I'mma pick you a hearse\n[00:59.82] I like the long black ones, drive around while spinning on two wheels\n[01:03.64] It's whatever you feel, blue steel\n[01:05.74] On black days, silver clouds when the MAC spray\n[01:08.51] Turn rappers back into clay\n[01:10.36] My mind's a museum filled with microphone exhibits\n[01:13.38] Of rhymes that I write that look like pictures\n[01:15.63] Ayo, my technique is berserk\n[01:17.86] A predator, y'all niggas pull your fucking skin off like a T-shirt\n[01:21.76] Retort, no remorse\n[01:23.59] Donate aborted rappers for stem cell research\n[01:26.42] I spit a few bars and niggas is FUBAR\n[01:29.06] You wouldn't ride on me if you was driving two cars, homie\n[01:32.07] The mind of Caesar Augustus\n[01:33.85] Rocking a Caesar, eating a Caesar salad in August, plus\n[01:37.06] I'm illustrious, I been with the Moors\n[01:39.50] Born and raised in L.A. by Monster Kody\n[01:41.87] Slowly chose the dark side for ice cold 40's\n[01:44.73] Like Obi-Wan Kenobi with an iced-out Rollie\n[01:47.30] And might fuck a white bitch, don't get it fucked up\n[01:50.07] Love black chicks but they don't like to suck nuts\n[01:52.65] So tell me what the hell am I supposed to do?\n[01:54.82] It's like sipping sizzurp in Houston, I'm supposed to screw\n[01:57.90] Talk slimy like okra\n[01:59.35] T-Bo shit backwards just to make Harpo out of Oprah\n[02:03.31] Ras spit sicker than most groups put together\n[02:05.67] 'Cause y'all put together, I put foot to leather\n[02:08.01] And walk over dead bodies like Rise of the Machines\n[02:11.16] Don't be surprised, nigga, it's Edi Amin\n[02:13.68] Rappers get ate up like the number on Kobe's jersey\n[02:17.09] Goddammit, I popped a clergy\n[02:18.68] Canibus, the only MC on Earth\n[02:20.30] That did geophysical research about the new rebirth\n[02:23.73] The Sun turn the Earth to rotisserie dirt\n[02:26.31] Listen 'fore you start dissing me first, this'll be worse\n[02:29.31] Twelve degree pole shift, displace the ocean\n[02:31.88] They send space probes in and come back broken\n[02:34.60] Armageddon omen, Planet X inbound and rapidly approaching\n[02:38.55] None of us are chosen\n[02:39.95] Field manual 2-0-4-6\n[02:42.45] Your life's getting away, you better run for it\n[02:45.05] Population reduction, mass destruction\n[02:47.38] The reset button is coming and some of us love it\n[02:50.02] The return of Nibiru, we will prepare you\n[02:52.82] Stay away from the media, they will scare you\n[02:55.33] Rappers respect beef, tactics and technique\n[02:57.88] I'mma show you how the best compete, let's beef\n[03:00.53] My verse on the mic is a surgical strike\n[03:03.10] Of herbal delight with no personal life\n[03:05.92] Live Saturday Night, sacrifice, batter the mic\n[03:08.83] Jab to the left, jab to the right\n[03:11.08] I'm the scripture sculptor, volcanic\n[03:14.27] You ignoramus, I'm the future, volcanic vulture\n[03:18.55] Firebird, I fire words, catch this cannon\n[03:22.09] All opponents, poetry Leonis Spartan\n[03:25.53] You just can't sink me\n[03:27.37] Shots, Hell's Kitchen 'til I'm sinky\n[03:29.76] Since I was born it's all about roaming\n[03:32.45] Since the Roman wars I been Caesar\n[03:35.13] Master of seizures, master of diseases\n[03:37.75] Throughout the legions, temperatures beyond degrees\n[03:40.64] Terrifying like Saddam in legions, ingenious\n[03:44.30] Fuck ya, I don't wanna have to bust you open\n[03:47.26] But I think you're looking too closely\n[03:49.57] And I don't wanna have to bust your eyes\n[03:51.81] Fuck it, fuck your eyes, fuck your mama, fuck the drama\n[03:55.48] Who needs it? Who like it? Who bleeds it?\n[03:58.55] Who think it? Who smoke it? Who drink it?\n[04:01.31] Motherfucker, I'mma start shrinking\n[04:03.33] Each and every one of you niggas, you're just particles\n[04:06.51] You walk in and get read like articles\n[04:09.17] Shredding, I'mma teach all y'all how to start poetry beheading\n[04:13.29] I'm the Headless Horseman, nigga, read the prescription\n[04:16.80] Try it once, instantaneous addiction\n[04:19.99] If you ever wanna see me\n[04:21.92] H-O-R-S-E-M-E-N, nigga\n[04:27.22] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Inner G (feat. Ras Kass, Canibus & Kurupt) (4 Horsemen)\n  artist: Killah Priest\n  album: The Offering\n  duration_ms: 267337\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I hide my face like the Elephant Man\n  start_ms: 23270\n  end_ms: 25390\n- text: Follow, you reach out of long black sleeves with skeleton hands\n  start_ms: 25390\n  end_ms: 28600\n- text: Touch rappers, watch them rot, they skin fall off\n  start_ms: 28600\n  end_ms: 31210\n- text: Boil in the pavement on a cold boardwalk\n  start_ms: 31210\n  end_ms: 33820\n- text: Then I laugh like the Joker while pissing on them\n  start_ms: 33820\n  end_ms: 36320\n- text: Then put on my hood, wait on the next corner\n  start_ms: 36320\n  end_ms: 38900\n- text: The next victim look in his face with tears in my eyes\n  start_ms: 38900\n  end_ms: 41590\n- text: That crystalize and turn into stone before they fall from my dome\n  start_ms: 41590\n  end_ms: 44960\n- text: Like an avalanche, the way I spit sound like an African chant\n  start_ms: 44960\n  end_ms: 48460\n- text: The Priest run through MC's like I'm trampling ants\n  start_ms: 48460\n  end_ms: 50940\n- text: Peep the form, it's the Vatican stance\n  start_ms: 50940\n  end_ms: 52710\n- text: The Pope Victor the First, the flow spit with a curse\n  start_ms: 52710\n  end_ms: 55470\n- text: Sicker the verse, the more bodies we stick in the dirt\n  start_ms: 55470\n  end_ms: 58110\n- text: Wait around, I'mma pick you a hearse\n  start_ms: 58110\n  end_ms: 59820\n- text: I like the long black ones, drive around while spinning on two wheels\n  start_ms: 59820\n  end_ms: 63640\n- text: It's whatever you feel, blue steel\n  start_ms: 63640\n  end_ms: 65740\n- text: On black days, silver clouds when the MAC spray\n  start_ms: 65740\n  end_ms: 68510\n- text: Turn rappers back into clay\n  start_ms: 68510\n  end_ms: 70360\n- text: My mind's a museum filled with microphone exhibits\n  start_ms: 70360\n  end_ms: 73380\n- text: Of rhymes that I write that look like pictures\n  start_ms: 73380\n  end_ms: 75630\n- text: Ayo, my technique is berserk\n  start_ms: 75630\n  end_ms: 77860\n- text: A predator, y'all niggas pull your fucking skin off like a T-shirt\n  start_ms: 77860\n  end_ms: 81760\n- text: Retort, no remorse\n  start_ms: 81760\n  end_ms: 83590\n- text: Donate aborted rappers for stem cell research\n  start_ms: 83590\n  end_ms: 86420\n- text: I spit a few bars and niggas is FUBAR\n  start_ms: 86420\n  end_ms: 89060\n- text: You wouldn't ride on me if you was driving two cars, homie\n  start_ms: 89060\n  end_ms: 92070\n- text: The mind of Caesar Augustus\n  start_ms: 92070\n  end_ms: 93850\n- text: Rocking a Caesar, eating a Caesar salad in August, plus\n  start_ms: 93850\n  end_ms: 97060\n- text: I'm illustrious, I been with the Moors\n  start_ms: 97060\n  end_ms: 99500\n- text: Born and raised in L.A. by Monster Kody\n  start_ms: 99500\n  end_ms: 101870\n- text: Slowly chose the dark side for ice cold 40's\n  start_ms: 101870\n  end_ms: 104730\n- text: Like Obi-Wan Kenobi with an iced-out Rollie\n  start_ms: 104730\n  end_ms: 107300\n- text: And might fuck a white bitch, don't get it fucked up\n  start_ms: 107300\n  end_ms: 110070\n- text: Love black chicks but they don't like to suck nuts\n  start_ms: 110070\n  end_ms: 112650\n- text: So tell me what the hell am I supposed to do?\n  start_ms: 112650\n  end_ms: 114820\n- text: It's like sipping sizzurp in Houston, I'm supposed to screw\n  start_ms: 114820\n  end_ms: 117900\n- text: Talk slimy like okra\n  start_ms: 117900\n  end_ms: 119350\n- text: T-Bo shit backwards just to make Harpo out of Oprah\n  start_ms: 119350\n  end_ms: 123310\n- text: Ras spit sicker than most groups put together\n  start_ms: 123310\n  end_ms: 125670\n- text: '''Cause y''all put together, I put foot to leather'\n  start_ms: 125670\n  end_ms: 128010\n- text: And walk over dead bodies like Rise of the Machines\n  start_ms: 128010\n  end_ms: 131160\n- text: Don't be surprised, nigga, it's Edi Amin\n  start_ms: 131160\n  end_ms: 133680\n- text: Rappers get ate up like the number on Kobe's jersey\n  start_ms: 133680\n  end_ms: 137090\n- text: Goddammit, I popped a clergy\n  start_ms: 137090\n  end_ms: 138680\n- text: Canibus, the only MC on Earth\n  start_ms: 138680\n  end_ms: 140300\n- text: That did geophysical research about the new rebirth\n  start_ms: 140300\n  end_ms: 143730\n- text: The Sun turn the Earth to rotisserie dirt\n  start_ms: 143730\n  end_ms: 146310\n- text: Listen 'fore you start dissing me first, this'll be worse\n  start_ms: 146310\n  end_ms: 149310\n- text: Twelve degree pole shift, displace the ocean\n  start_ms: 149310\n  end_ms: 151880\n- text: They send space probes in and come back broken\n  start_ms: 151880\n  end_ms: 154600\n- text: Armageddon omen, Planet X inbound and rapidly approaching\n  start_ms: 154600\n  end_ms: 158550\n- text: None of us are chosen\n  start_ms: 158550\n  end_ms: 159950\n- text: Field manual 2-0-4-6\n  start_ms: 159950\n  end_ms: 162450\n- text: Your life's getting away, you better run for it\n  start_ms: 162450\n  end_ms: 165050\n- text: Population reduction, mass destruction\n  start_ms: 165050\n  end_ms: 167380\n- text: The reset button is coming and some of us love it\n  start_ms: 167380\n  end_ms: 170020\n- text: The return of Nibiru, we will prepare you\n  start_ms: 170020\n  end_ms: 172820\n- text: Stay away from the media, they will scare you\n  start_ms: 172820\n  end_ms: 175330\n- text: Rappers respect beef, tactics and technique\n  start_ms: 175330\n  end_ms: 177880\n- text: I'mma show you how the best compete, let's beef\n  start_ms: 177880\n  end_ms: 180530\n- text: My verse on the mic is a surgical strike\n  start_ms: 180530\n  end_ms: 183100\n- text: Of herbal delight with no personal life\n  start_ms: 183100\n  end_ms: 185920\n- text: Live Saturday Night, sacrifice, batter the mic\n  start_ms: 185920\n  end_ms: 188830\n- text: Jab to the left, jab to the right\n  start_ms: 188830\n  end_ms: 191080\n- text: I'm the scripture sculptor, volcanic\n  start_ms: 191080\n  end_ms: 194270\n- text: You ignoramus, I'm the future, volcanic vulture\n  start_ms: 194270\n  end_ms: 198550\n- text: Firebird, I fire words, catch this cannon\n  start_ms: 198550\n  end_ms: 202090\n- text: All opponents, poetry Leonis Spartan\n  start_ms: 202090\n  end_ms: 205530\n- text: You just can't sink me\n  start_ms: 205530\n  end_ms: 207370\n- text: Shots, Hell's Kitchen 'til I'm sinky\n  start_ms: 207370\n  end_ms: 209760\n- text: Since I was born it's all about roaming\n  start_ms: 209760\n  end_ms: 212450\n- text: Since the Roman wars I been Caesar\n  start_ms: 212450\n  end_ms: 215130\n- text: Master of seizures, master of diseases\n  start_ms: 215130\n  end_ms: 217750\n- text: Throughout the legions, temperatures beyond degrees\n  start_ms: 217750\n  end_ms: 220640\n- text: Terrifying like Saddam in legions, ingenious\n  start_ms: 220640\n  end_ms: 224300\n- text: Fuck ya, I don't wanna have to bust you open\n  start_ms: 224300\n  end_ms: 227260\n- text: But I think you're looking too closely\n  start_ms: 227260\n  end_ms: 229570\n- text: And I don't wanna have to bust your eyes\n  start_ms: 229570\n  end_ms: 231810\n- text: Fuck it, fuck your eyes, fuck your mama, fuck the drama\n  start_ms: 231810\n  end_ms: 235480\n- text: Who needs it? Who like it? Who bleeds it?\n  start_ms: 235480\n  end_ms: 238550\n- text: Who think it? Who smoke it? Who drink it?\n  start_ms: 238550\n  end_ms: 241310\n- text: Motherfucker, I'mma start shrinking\n  start_ms: 241310\n  end_ms: 243330\n- text: Each and every one of you niggas, you're just particles\n  start_ms: 243330\n  end_ms: 246510\n- text: You walk in and get read like articles\n  start_ms: 246510\n  end_ms: 249170\n- text: Shredding, I'mma teach all y'all how to start poetry beheading\n  start_ms: 249170\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: I'm the Headless Horseman, nigga, read the prescription\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 256800\n- text: Try it once, instantaneous addiction\n  start_ms: 256800\n  end_ms: 259990\n- text: If you ever wanna see me\n  start_ms: 259990\n  end_ms: 261920\n- text: H-O-R-S-E-M-E-N, nigga\n  start_ms: 261920\n  end_ms: 267220\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 267220\nplain: |-\n  I hide my face like the Elephant Man\n  Follow, you reach out of long black sleeves with skeleton hands\n  Touch rappers, watch them rot, they skin fall off\n  Boil in the pavement on a cold boardwalk\n  Then I laugh like the Joker while pissing on them\n  Then put on my hood, wait on the next corner\n  The next victim look in his face with tears in my eyes\n  That crystalize and turn into stone before they fall from my dome\n  Like an avalanche, the way I spit sound like an African chant\n  The Priest run through MC's like I'm trampling ants\n  Peep the form, it's the Vatican stance\n  The Pope Victor the First, the flow spit with a curse\n  Sicker the verse, the more bodies we stick in the dirt\n  Wait around, I'mma pick you a hearse\n  I like the long black ones, drive around while spinning on two wheels\n  It's whatever you feel, blue steel\n  On black days, silver clouds when the MAC spray\n  Turn rappers back into clay\n  My mind's a museum filled with microphone exhibits\n  Of rhymes that I write that look like pictures\n\n  Ayo, my technique is berserk\n  A predator, y'all niggas pull your fucking skin off like a T-shirt\n  Retort, no remorse\n  Donate aborted rappers for stem cell research\n  I spit a few bars and niggas is FUBAR\n  You wouldn't ride on me if you was driving two cars, homie\n  The mind of Caesar Augustus\n  Rocking a Caesar, eating a Caesar salad in August, plus\n  I'm illustrious, I been with the Moors\n  Born and raised in L.A. by Monster Kody\n  Slowly chose the dark side for ice cold 40's\n  Like Obi-Wan Kenobi with an iced-out Rollie\n  And might fuck a white bitch, don't get it fucked up\n  Love black chicks but they don't like to suck nuts\n  So tell me what the hell am I supposed to do?\n  It's like sipping sizzurp in Houston, I'm supposed to screw\n  Talk slimy like okra\n  T-Bo shit backwards just to make Harpo out of Oprah\n  Ras spit sicker than most groups put together\n  'Cause y'all put together, I put foot to leather\n  And walk over dead bodies like Rise of the Machines\n  Don't be surprised, nigga, it's Edi Amin\n  Rappers get ate up like the number on Kobe's jersey\n  Goddammit, I popped a clergy\n\n  Canibus, the only MC on Earth\n  That did geophysical research about the new rebirth\n  The Sun turn the Earth to rotisserie dirt\n  Listen 'fore you start dissing me first, this'll be worse\n  Twelve degree pole shift, displace the ocean\n  They send space probes in and come back broken\n  Armageddon omen, Planet X inbound and rapidly approaching\n  None of us are chosen\n  Field manual 2-0-4-6\n  Your life's getting away, you better run for it\n  Population reduction, mass destruction\n  The reset button is coming and some of us love it\n  The return of Nibiru, we will prepare you\n  Stay away from the media, they will scare you\n  Rappers respect beef, tactics and technique\n  I'mma show you how the best compete, let's beef\n  My verse on the mic is a surgical strike\n  Of herbal delight with no personal life\n  Live Saturday Night, sacrifice, batter the mic\n  Jab to the left, jab to the right\n\n  I'm the scripture sculptor, volcanic\n  You ignoramus, I'm the future, volcanic vulture\n  Firebird, I fire words, catch this cannon\n  All opponents, poetry Leonis Spartan\n  You just can't sink me\n  Shots, Hell's Kitchen 'til I'm sinky\n  Since I was born it's all about roaming\n  Since the Roman wars I been Caesar\n  Master of seizures, master of diseases\n  Throughout the legions, temperatures beyond degrees\n  Terrifying like Saddam in legions, ingenious\n  Fuck ya, I don't wanna have to bust you open\n  But I think you're looking too closely\n  And I don't wanna have to bust your eyes\n  Fuck it, fuck your eyes, fuck your mama, fuck the drama\n  Who needs it? Who like it? Who bleeds it?\n  Who think it? Who smoke it? Who drink it?\n  Motherfucker, I'mma start shrinking\n  Each and every one of you niggas, you're just particles\n  You walk in and get read like articles\n  Shredding, I'mma teach all y'all how to start poetry beheading\n  I'm the Headless Horseman, nigga, read the prescription\n  Try it once, instantaneous addiction\n  If you ever wanna see me\n  H-O-R-S-E-M-E-N, nigga\n"}]