歌曲 | Da' Facelift |
歌手 | Canibus |
专辑 | Hip-hop For $ale |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Cross, Williams | |
(Canibus) | |
“You wanna face lift? This is what it takes ‘Bis | |
A beat that'll make a nigga think an earthquake hit” | |
The blue-collar rapper, enigmatic, democratic | |
Rap-savvy fanatic that could smash any match-up | |
High when I wrote this, bring welding goggles to my show | |
My flow glow brighter than any diamond that you know | |
I walk among you, draw energy from you | |
The Art of Sun-Tzu, he used to bust too | |
I'm like a Shaolin monk on crunk | |
Holding himself up with his thumb on a stump | |
Get a Hummer for the summer to stunt | |
And just sit in the front while my lungs become one with a blunt | |
Futuristic old-schooler, look like JFK Jr. when I suit up | |
Jacob ‘The Jeweler' with a new cut | |
Can-I-Bus! I ain't got what I want yet | |
How could you respect one of the best, what? | |
I can't get no, grab the mic, nigga, let's go | |
Bet me who got the best flow, you end up with less doe | |
Open your vest, let your chest show | |
I'ma open your chest, let your breath go with a .38 Special | |
Keep it on the low, don't let the press know | |
Behind the scenes they put me on death row and won't let go | |
Brace yourself while I break the chains | |
My beats bang so hard they erase the plains | |
(Chorus x4) | |
This is full battle rattle, attack you | |
Salute or I'll smash you, Can-I-Bus bust to blast you | |
(Canibus) | |
The 100 Bar Monster spit without hawkin' up | |
Smash your whole roster, fuck what it cost ya' | |
Fuck what it cost me, join the army smoke Bob Marley | |
The sergeant major honorably discharged me | |
For my sinsemilla and my hemp incense | |
Inspiration, why it's only worth ten percent | |
Another day in the life for Mr. Can-I-Bus | |
My life too rough for me not to recognize love | |
The soldier's back to blow a fucking hole through Rap | |
I wish they'd let me out the cage and stop holding me back | |
You might say the only thing holding me back is myself | |
It ain't hard to tell what's holding me back is my sales | |
I don't make record for girls, I spit for the borough | |
But I'm an artist in an ignorant world | |
World class athlete trained to attack beats | |
Mixtapes smash the streets, try to patch the leaks | |
Niggas try to battle me but lose, they got limited views | |
I remember when I was primitive too | |
I sit and talk with the inquisitive youth, ‘cause I be spitting the truth | |
Sometimes I ask them, “What you listening to?” | |
Lyrical Fitness is the proof, let me put you in the booth | |
Nottz'll play the beat-loop, let me see what you can do | |
The older advise the younger when they recognize the hunger | |
I do a couple reps with the mic to get pumped up | |
Monkey-bar sit-ups, blood rush to my head | |
I write rhymes upside-down with an astronaut pen | |
Spit a hot sixteen at Mach 10, take it up a notch then | |
Launch everything when I'm locked in | |
You in the kill-zone boxed in | |
Tried to play jump rope with skis on and got dropped when you hopped in | |
The Last Mohican, smoke you in the first season | |
You don't speak it but it's no secret | |
Peep it, you lightweight like rice-cakes | |
Anybody under twenty-one that touch the microphone is mic-bait | |
Hungry niggas start to get tight-faced, that's when the fight breaks | |
A sixty second round is a nice pace | |
Work a nigga out ‘til he spit up white paste | |
Tell him he can hide the bruise on his face with nightshade | |
If you looking for a battle you came to the right place | |
This is Mic Club and over here I'm the Mic Ace | |
(Chorus) 4X |
zuo ci : Cross, Williams | |
Canibus | |
" You wanna face lift? This is what it takes ' Bis | |
A beat that' ll make a nigga think an earthquake hit" | |
The bluecollar rapper, enigmatic, democratic | |
Rapsavvy fanatic that could smash any matchup | |
High when I wrote this, bring welding goggles to my show | |
My flow glow brighter than any diamond that you know | |
I walk among you, draw energy from you | |
The Art of SunTzu, he used to bust too | |
I' m like a Shaolin monk on crunk | |
Holding himself up with his thumb on a stump | |
Get a Hummer for the summer to stunt | |
And just sit in the front while my lungs become one with a blunt | |
Futuristic oldschooler, look like JFK Jr. when I suit up | |
Jacob ' The Jeweler' with a new cut | |
CanIBus! I ain' t got what I want yet | |
How could you respect one of the best, what? | |
I can' t get no, grab the mic, nigga, let' s go | |
Bet me who got the best flow, you end up with less doe | |
Open your vest, let your chest show | |
I' ma open your chest, let your breath go with a . 38 Special | |
Keep it on the low, don' t let the press know | |
Behind the scenes they put me on death row and won' t let go | |
Brace yourself while I break the chains | |
My beats bang so hard they erase the plains | |
Chorus x4 | |
This is full battle rattle, attack you | |
Salute or I' ll smash you, CanIBus bust to blast you | |
Canibus | |
The 100 Bar Monster spit without hawkin' up | |
Smash your whole roster, fuck what it cost ya' | |
Fuck what it cost me, join the army smoke Bob Marley | |
The sergeant major honorably discharged me | |
For my sinsemilla and my hemp incense | |
Inspiration, why it' s only worth ten percent | |
Another day in the life for Mr. CanIBus | |
My life too rough for me not to recognize love | |
The soldier' s back to blow a fucking hole through Rap | |
I wish they' d let me out the cage and stop holding me back | |
You might say the only thing holding me back is myself | |
It ain' t hard to tell what' s holding me back is my sales | |
I don' t make record for girls, I spit for the borough | |
But I' m an artist in an ignorant world | |
World class athlete trained to attack beats | |
Mixtapes smash the streets, try to patch the leaks | |
Niggas try to battle me but lose, they got limited views | |
I remember when I was primitive too | |
I sit and talk with the inquisitive youth, ' cause I be spitting the truth | |
Sometimes I ask them, " What you listening to?" | |
Lyrical Fitness is the proof, let me put you in the booth | |
Nottz' ll play the beatloop, let me see what you can do | |
The older advise the younger when they recognize the hunger | |
I do a couple reps with the mic to get pumped up | |
Monkeybar situps, blood rush to my head | |
I write rhymes upsidedown with an astronaut pen | |
Spit a hot sixteen at Mach 10, take it up a notch then | |
Launch everything when I' m locked in | |
You in the killzone boxed in | |
Tried to play jump rope with skis on and got dropped when you hopped in | |
The Last Mohican, smoke you in the first season | |
You don' t speak it but it' s no secret | |
Peep it, you lightweight like ricecakes | |
Anybody under twentyone that touch the microphone is micbait | |
Hungry niggas start to get tightfaced, that' s when the fight breaks | |
A sixty second round is a nice pace | |
Work a nigga out ' til he spit up white paste | |
Tell him he can hide the bruise on his face with nightshade | |
If you looking for a battle you came to the right place | |
This is Mic Club and over here I' m the Mic Ace | |
Chorus 4X |
zuò cí : Cross, Williams | |
Canibus | |
" You wanna face lift? This is what it takes ' Bis | |
A beat that' ll make a nigga think an earthquake hit" | |
The bluecollar rapper, enigmatic, democratic | |
Rapsavvy fanatic that could smash any matchup | |
High when I wrote this, bring welding goggles to my show | |
My flow glow brighter than any diamond that you know | |
I walk among you, draw energy from you | |
The Art of SunTzu, he used to bust too | |
I' m like a Shaolin monk on crunk | |
Holding himself up with his thumb on a stump | |
Get a Hummer for the summer to stunt | |
And just sit in the front while my lungs become one with a blunt | |
Futuristic oldschooler, look like JFK Jr. when I suit up | |
Jacob ' The Jeweler' with a new cut | |
CanIBus! I ain' t got what I want yet | |
How could you respect one of the best, what? | |
I can' t get no, grab the mic, nigga, let' s go | |
Bet me who got the best flow, you end up with less doe | |
Open your vest, let your chest show | |
I' ma open your chest, let your breath go with a . 38 Special | |
Keep it on the low, don' t let the press know | |
Behind the scenes they put me on death row and won' t let go | |
Brace yourself while I break the chains | |
My beats bang so hard they erase the plains | |
Chorus x4 | |
This is full battle rattle, attack you | |
Salute or I' ll smash you, CanIBus bust to blast you | |
Canibus | |
The 100 Bar Monster spit without hawkin' up | |
Smash your whole roster, fuck what it cost ya' | |
Fuck what it cost me, join the army smoke Bob Marley | |
The sergeant major honorably discharged me | |
For my sinsemilla and my hemp incense | |
Inspiration, why it' s only worth ten percent | |
Another day in the life for Mr. CanIBus | |
My life too rough for me not to recognize love | |
The soldier' s back to blow a fucking hole through Rap | |
I wish they' d let me out the cage and stop holding me back | |
You might say the only thing holding me back is myself | |
It ain' t hard to tell what' s holding me back is my sales | |
I don' t make record for girls, I spit for the borough | |
But I' m an artist in an ignorant world | |
World class athlete trained to attack beats | |
Mixtapes smash the streets, try to patch the leaks | |
Niggas try to battle me but lose, they got limited views | |
I remember when I was primitive too | |
I sit and talk with the inquisitive youth, ' cause I be spitting the truth | |
Sometimes I ask them, " What you listening to?" | |
Lyrical Fitness is the proof, let me put you in the booth | |
Nottz' ll play the beatloop, let me see what you can do | |
The older advise the younger when they recognize the hunger | |
I do a couple reps with the mic to get pumped up | |
Monkeybar situps, blood rush to my head | |
I write rhymes upsidedown with an astronaut pen | |
Spit a hot sixteen at Mach 10, take it up a notch then | |
Launch everything when I' m locked in | |
You in the killzone boxed in | |
Tried to play jump rope with skis on and got dropped when you hopped in | |
The Last Mohican, smoke you in the first season | |
You don' t speak it but it' s no secret | |
Peep it, you lightweight like ricecakes | |
Anybody under twentyone that touch the microphone is micbait | |
Hungry niggas start to get tightfaced, that' s when the fight breaks | |
A sixty second round is a nice pace | |
Work a nigga out ' til he spit up white paste | |
Tell him he can hide the bruise on his face with nightshade | |
If you looking for a battle you came to the right place | |
This is Mic Club and over here I' m the Mic Ace | |
Chorus 4X |