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Description: Paintings and some of my front yard ststues

Description: Canibus 4321 original verse def jam [Canibus]Meth, where the Gods at? Redman, where the squad at? //L, is that a mic on your arm? Let me borrow that //Who's the God of rap, you sayin' is nice //I beat a nigga to death, and beat a dead nigga to life //When you look at me long enough, I start to read your thoughts //If the signal was strong enough, and then I'll call your bluff //To see how many rhymes you got //I could go on for more Millenias than Mazda's got on a car lot //And there's no where to run to, when I confront you //Nigga, I call your bluff, like you had a phone number //Who want to see Canibus get wild? //Who want to act fly and get shot down with a surface to air missile //I take them on in all shapes, sizes, and forms //And spit on, anybody who ain't close enough to shit on //Zero to sixty, I'm already doing a hundred, when I'm blunted //And I give it to any nigga' that wants it //Your head will spin so fast, you'll catch whiplash //I practice, lyrical witchcraft, on your bitch ass //Make your hard drive crash to c colon backslash //Then I'll go back to the roots and school your wack ass //'Cause the object of the game, is to spark every cell in your brain //At degrees hotter than blue-flames //Propane gasses, incinerate into ashes //I got you breathing harder than girls at Lamaze classes //Stop bitching about if it's written or freestyle //Got the whole Spanish community saying I'm muy mal //Charging niggas with booty styles fifty dollar fines //In addition to twenty-five dollars for wack punch lines //'Cause I'm the top dog running the yard //And I represent, 'cause I'm never chained to the fence //Hence, to battle me is impossible //I put your whole crew in the hospital, with I.V.'s in all of their nostrils //So stop sleeping on me, I ain't a mattress //But you do more drama than a soap-opera actress //Don't even think about pulling out and opening fire //Gun-shots wound, but I remove bullets with pliers //I inspired to kick the fattest that you've ever witnessed //From a far-side that's even confusing the fat lip//Rhymes designed from lines of pure knowledge //I make your head nod 'till your neck runs out of cartilage //I think it's obvious that I can bring the ruckus //Scream at your crew like a military drill instructor //When I come through, niggas stand still in statues //If I have to, I'll battle your whole rap crew //Then I'll attack you with words that's absurd //And rip your fucking skin off, just to get on your nerves //