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Fred's eyebrow raised. The next clue mentioned another track by Rip the Jacker

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DOO6gAsRWe4

Fraternity of the Impoverished
Knowledge this, knowledge this
The vocalist beast, knowledge like the Pope in this piece
You think the ocean is deep? Fuck with me!
Unbelievable bars, unbeatable odds
Unspeakable horrors at a unperceivable cost
Your unagreeable response lacks thought and human heart
This is Lyrical Law, it's what I make the music for
My prayers are simple, my forehead is layered with wrinkles
Because of all the hardships that I've been through
Symbolic Hip Hop prophet speak to your subconscious
French politics got the public thinking the opposite
I'm a hypo-lyrical spontaneous alchemical
Elite neo-liberal child of the indigo
Drilling holes through the Faraday cages of your brains
Then I implant the arcane image of Saint Germaine
High lyrical exponent intelligence quotient
When I'm focused I can engage multiple opponents
But I won't if, I have no motive,
"Soldier be careful, it's loaded!"
Verbose with emotions of psychosis
In case you didn't notice ,when I wrote it
I'm spitting lyrics fitting in tighter spaces than outer-space roaches
A real emcee don't have to do what he don't wanna do
And that includes freestylin' in front of you
It's not like something gone change
It's not like the whole world gone start praising my name-
I stay in my lane
I'd rather die by living brave then live like a slave
I'd rather be broke then be fake and get paid
These layers of physicality challenge me
My soul is gold and it's the only thing that's able to balance me
My energy body has a alchemical copy that looks godly
Not fat, out of shape or sloppy
The iller the rhymes the more that I embody
Vilified when real recognize real - I gets mines
Stand with the underdog - don't be a coward
Stop dickriding people for their money and power!
Even the American flag says 'Made in China'
The national debt says the US is a vagina
Of a black widow spider spraying blood out like a geyser
Why do we lose everything we fight for?
Fathers, mothers, sons, daughters
In the land of the lawless, sacrificed before Horus
The Inca, the Aztecs, the Mayans, were masters
A new beginning is coming - the irony is classic
The potential of life versus the potential of death
Either way we go through mad mental stress
God forbid for you, for her, or him
We ignored the gems now we gotta do it all again
We failed Hip Hop's laws and brought down shame upon our cause
Now we will fall upon our swords
The Shaman pays homage to Solomon
He orders them to send the witchdoctor in, then asked me to rhyme again
Every now and then I get retarded and spit
I would like to apologize to every artist I dissed
Everybody assumes that I wanna rhyme when I don't
Sometimes I just wanna chill and watch you flow
Mysteries of the cathedral, the dark overlords are evil
Ripped out the vocal cords of the people
I walk up to your bed side in disguise with red eyes
And tell you to remember these rhymes
This is the season of Hip Hop, believe it or not
I lined it up with the planet's equinox.


Bilderburgh Cold Case feat. Canibus
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZLovotxfiJ0
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
The song from Montana was a curious synchronicity but the song that played after was even more so!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLnfITi_wgY

Canibus - The Art of Yo ft K-Rino & Born Son

Bastard style with no father tryna claim the kid
I called it X 'cause I ain't even tryna name the shit
Sundullah, you see me on the stage with Rip
Nitrogen lungs yo my tongue mix propane with spit
And I'm nice, the voice of Christ resurrected through mics
Son of God, Son of Man, helping some of y'all will overstand
Crash the Vatican as soon as I land
I'm 'bout to set it on in the gulf of Adan
I stand in the Garden of Eden, unbeaten, undefeated
I tweeted pictures of Eve, tonguing cheeses
Scientology guides put my rhymes on photography slides
To quantify the higher knowledge applied
But I'm an uncaged animal channeling Hannibal
A cannibal, bite your head off and hand it to you
SpitBoss, centrifugal force different from yours
The Sun is Born, this is Lyrical Law, Yo!!!

I've never been a friendly author,
don't need a gangster beat to make me off ya,
I'll slaughter ya while playing Cyndi Lauper

Better than y'all, give me one competitive brawl
I throw a hundred miles an hour with a medicine ball
I'll melt your fortress down to caramel softness
Drive a charger through ya torso, parallel park it
That cosmic ray beam effect, I Hiroshima wreck
Rap disaster so tragic they gave his ass a FEMA check
Cadence is radiant, I predated Arcadians
I stayed with the brigade of alien etho-sapiens
Hit your through the atrium of heavenly light
Once I smite you, like a left arm you'll never be right
I've used every word possible to let you know what I can do
So I made something new, I'll collipherously clobber you
You ain't legitimate, you posing like a model do
I'll throttle you, liquidate and sixteen ounce bottle you

I'm tryna figure out, who this nigga barking at?
Before his heart gets snatched, run up on him in a stocking cap
Keep barking like you hard, get stalked and clapped
Come in the cage you get stomped on the mat
Carve your name in the axe, then chop you in the back
Hack off your femur bones, beat you with them like bats
Put your remains in saran wrap, dump them in an alcohol vat
You can rap but you ain't all that

Step inside, close the door, fuck you yelling for?
Kick your head off, now it's rolling on the floor like a bowling ball
Open the door, clean this fucking mess off my wall
And don't ever mention his name no more
You dig? you follow me nigga, I follow you quicker
You got a weak ticker, told you not to fuck with the Ripper
Have you showing your true colours, drinking blood from ya liver
You a dickrider and you an Indian giver
Waging war with some gorillas, I'll bludgeon you by the river
The park ranger is pissing he gon find you while he's fishing
Fistula face, herpes simplex outbreak
Alienated aliens get ate by alien apes
You food nigga, throw yourself over the gate
How does alien taste? Like mammalian waste
You ain't swift. You's a dumb fuck
I'll have you breathing like your lungs got struck by two-hundred pound nunchucks
Brave motherfuckers get slayed for Hip Hop if you love it

Like Kill Bill between a hundred gay lovers

I'm the illest nigga say something...
Yeah I thought so, shut the fuck up things will go back to normal
I ain't happy tho, now I'm in battle mode

The president of Hip Hop with mad motherfuckers on the grassy Knoll

I take it back to my Curriculum days
What you say? I body you in meticulous ways
Cos you thought I was a donut, you tried to glaze
Let me tell you something, don't pop shit fistula face
Battle league nigga, talking shit's for amateurs nigga
Goddammit, y'all living off fantasies nigga
You wanna battle that bad? aight go get your camera
When it's my turn, I got a four and a half pound answer
When I was young, I took down hard targets

You a sausage nigga, for coming at me like a novice
You never heard 'Fraternity of the Impoverished'?
Motherfucker, can't you see that I'm an artist?
I don't want them childish problems
Lyrical manslaughter charges interfere with my Lyrical Law process
Out rap me? that's preposterous, metaphor marksman mudswamping
We hunt down Hip Hop monsters
Skin 'em alive tie their carcass to the bottom of my Polaris
And drive them all the way to Wisconsin
Partner, fuck around, throw your ass under the bus face down
Lay down, we gonna wait for this greyhound

The fuck you gonna say now?

Do me a favor, stop weighing me down
Fucking clown, Lyrical Law is too muscle bound
Houdini style nigga, just struggle and drown
Get it over with you can never fuck with my style
You got raped nigga, you bleeding, don't touch my towel
You can spit them wack juice punchline lines all you want
But don't front, bottom line, I'm the champ, you a chump
You can spit your stupid punchlines all you want
But after this the whole world gonna see who won
That's what you wanted right? get the fuck off my mic!

Insights

Feb. 21st, 2017 11:14 pm
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Fred had been waiting for the dawn. His phone was overloaded with messages and email since the image had leaked onto the web. People were getting furious over the ramifications. Many more people were beginning to get curious. Even motivated. One of his emails was particularly inspiring, stating the that the information had given her a new found hope. A new reason to live.
Fred thought of something he had read years ago. It was an article that discussed the importance of vocabulary. The writer described that people with a larger vocabulary set were generally happier in life because they had more words to define their perception of the universe. People with a limited vocabulary had less terms to define things, therefore their concepts of the universe were limited in scope. Which increased the likelihood of depression, lack of imagination and anxiety issues.
The concept were as deep as the ocean but Fred had known about the image for years; for him it was old news. He was far beyond in the "Theory of the Cube" by now. He needed to let the "Machinations of Men" work their course. Fred chuckled thinking, "Funny how a small breath could cause a hurricane." he lit another smoke and coughed upon inhaling. "Damn." he thought. "If it wasn't corporate espionage that would eventually kill him, it would be these fucking cigarettes that did."

Fred was waiting in front of the Temple of Ten Thousand Buddhas. He was contemplating the concept of idols versus so called "false" idols. Was an image of Buddha a false idol? Technically no. Most the statues of Buddha look similar. They all seem to depict his likeness. This made sense considering plenty of art and written depictions of Buddha were drafted while Buddha was still walking around. But the Christians and Jesus? That seemed to be another matter entirely.

Most Christian churches that Fred had ever been in had paintings of Jesus on the wall. For the most part, Jesus looked similar in all the artwork Fred had seen. A caucasian, with long wavy locks and a beard. What were the odds that Jesus was white? What were the odds that Jesus was even his real name? Jesus meant "little Zeus", so why don't preachers address this fact? Why don't preachers ever talk about the present avatar of the Christ being based off a painting distributed to American soldiers during WW2? Those depictions are a false portrait. Yet most Christian churches around the world have this avatar pronominally displayed as their main focal point. Fred had seen hundreds drop to their knees before this false idol and pray to it. Wasn't that sacrilege? Didn't the Biblical Jesus say to pray to his Father in Heaven? Then why did people pray to a statue?

According to pagan and occult studies Fred had studied, praying to a statue charges that statue. Which meant that most peoples prayers in church were being misdirected to a material object?

Who knows? But it gave Fred and interesting thought. "If there was such a technology, I wonder if a metal crucifix could have advanced equipment attached to it and "catch" or "read" people's prayers?" Whoa. Crazy thought, he let it go into the ether. Philosophies were never concrete. It was all too subjective and abstract. People would argue for years over the particulars, even willing to go to war over words written thousands of years ago. Where people just gullible and stupid? Or was there really something to all of this dogma? Well, that was why he was at an Oriental Temple. He wanted an outside perspective. Since it was only 06:00, he had to wait for the monks to come out of their sleeping chambers.

Bored, Fred began to day dream. The sun had not risen just yet but was pushing the darkness back across the vault. His breath steaming the in cold morning air, Fred opened his phone. He was cold. But he was glad he still wasn't back in Montana. That place was really cold at this time of year. Being in a frigid California morning in February was nothing compared to a February morning in Montana. He thought back to his days there as a painter. It was remote and quite. There were no friends or family to pester him and he didn't go out much. It was a perfect place to get a lot of painting done. And he had too. In about eight months time Fred had painted nine quality pieces that would have made great prints or shirts. Only he didn't remember where they were now. That was before his accident. Now he had the military and the collective on his back and there wasn't time to dabble in paints anymore. Even if he hated the weather, he did miss Montana. He opened his phone to a surprise. The first notification on his phone had something to do with none other than Montana! He clicked the link:

Mr. Montana written and performed by G.W. a.k.a. Canibus
Published on Feb 21, 2017
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBS_nVUzJr4

Yo, Montana?

He didn’t, he didn’t pick up, uh
Let me try, let me try to get him on the line first and then once I have him, I’ll send you a message telling you to call me back

Mr. Montana, I missed your message
You wouldn’t understand what I’ve been dealin’ with brethren
The sand glass is empty and I ain’t got faith in nothin’
So I can’t pick up, I’m in a bunker

You never fronted, never sold me out
I apologize but that's not what this is about
This is about the direction the world's spinning in
Occupy Hip Hop with Lisa Fithian*
The powers that be are preparing for something
They definitely ain't preparing for nothing
I've been saying in my music for years
I tried to educate the audience - my peers
I tried to build with my brothers and sisters

Regardless of color or ethnic religion

Regardless of any financial position
It's tougher than talking to a brick wall
Looking for help to build an Ark before Babylon fall
The fate of humanity is tailor-made
We stuck between a rock and a razor blade
No substance - drunken - blinded by consumption
Marching towards our own destruction
Unawares, unprepared

Open they back - looking for spine, nothing's there, just fear

The horrible beauty, humanity deserves it
To be mass murdered - look at what they worship
Slaves and yet none of this pleases me
You know what I say, "The Dead got it easy"
We're Slaves and yet none of this pleases me
You know what I say, "The Dead got it easy"

Peace Nasir**, I missed your message
You wouldn’t understand what I’ve been dealin’ with brethren
The sand glass is empty and I ain’t got faith in nothin’
So I can’t pick up, I’m in a bunker

I can’t pick up, I’m in a bunker
The underground ain’t got nearly enough substance

Conspiracy Worldwide sterilized
Alternative media radio stations got fired
All these little rappers still got dreams
They talk big money but they got beans

The ones who got more they got more because they got yours
Either or they was on all fours
They're all just a bunch of whores

Security can't even afford lunch when they go on tour
The whole worlds a stage, all the way back to the Bronze Age
Man ain't a damn thing changed
So I don't care what they talkin' bout
They lie so much they ain't even worth calling out

They so far past being watered down they got cotton mouth
Bout to be starving from drought
Rap no longer educates the listener
Rap Music just Pacifies prisoners

A Bat is just a flying Rat, you a lying piece of crap
Underground rap, nothing but a trap
You saved the world and they don't even know your name, God.
Rap Music ain't got no graveyard
I wouldn't wanna' be buried there anyway
Fuck YouTube and pennies they pay
You see Montana? This what we up against
If this is all we got, then we ain't got nothing left
Hip Hop used to communicate ideas
That's right I got some smart ideas
I'm gettin' older and in all my years
I never thought music would manifest all my fears

Mr. Montana, I missed your message
You wouldn’t understand what I’ve been dealin’ with brethren
The sand glass is empty and I ain’t got faith in nothin’
So I can’t pick up, I’m in a bunker

I can’t pick up, I’m in a bunker
I told you, the underground ain’t worth nothin’
The underground ain’t got nearly enough substance


* Lisa Fithian is an American political activist and protest organizer. She began her work in the mid-1970s as a member of student government in her high school and at Skidmore College.

**Nazir is a Redguard member of the Dark Brotherhood of the Elder Scrolls universe. By Bethesda Studios. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pql29L1xpz4
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Lyrical Noir https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DK8dq1saAU4
This is Lyrical Law
Say it some more
Lyrical Law
Lyrical Noir
"I'm sick and tired of what you've been saying about me in the media"
Yo

Give me some more slack on this rope
I run your boney ass throat over in a zodiac boat
46 degrees north, 6 degrees east
The Large Hadron Collider gave birth to a beast
That speaks, they quote my speech
Vocal motifs over dope beats, all lyricists know me!
That's why the industry's debunking my lyrics
With digital trunking equipment, they don't want you to listen!
The Ripper's language won't appeal to the masses because they look past it
Only the masters know the seal of the scarab
Some humans are born average based off environmental circumstances
You organic piece of shit, you substandard
But do not be embarrassed by your underdeveloped status
It's up to you to find the right questions and ask it
Research leads to results sometimes we find meaning after
Other times they're just meaningless babblers
Don't believe these rappers, fake unbelievable bastards
Comet Elenin is coming straight at us, don't believe NASA
Take matters into your own hands
Stop being slow and acting like hoes, get with the fucking program
Hip Hop is the greatest genre known to man
If we focus, the poetry is so advanced
We can overthrow any plan to control man
You got soul? Let's Jam! Lyrical Law I'm the Canibus Man
What's the buy-in minimum? 88 sales, program
And the number of stores, I don't care no more
This is Lyrical Law Noir hardcore raw Metaphors for you and yours
You can't say you wasn't warned!
Thousands of bars, them dummies couldn't stomach my bars
They rather conform, they throwing up their pompoms
You don't wanna wrestle with Armstrong
We sever blood vessels tryna mess with the God's poem
Damage any motherfucking beat that I rhyme on
Connect to the God's thoughts, possess your iPod, I grind hard
Intellectual hardboard, take it back to Hip Hop Star Wars
Grunting like a pack of wild boars
Power source Lyrical Law my bomb squad full force
Call 'em off we got too much torque
Nitrous Oxide Bars pull a bull of course
Pitch fork to you neck just to prove I'm raw
Iron horse, smack DVD, Battle Rap dwarf
Slap you with the flat part of the sword, now you back for more
Passing yourself off like a Rap star
But you support wack bars that's why rap has lost -- fact!
You a Cool J crack whore,
You snitch like police Labradors tryna sniff out sasquatch
Man up, no more lip service and back wash
Stand up! I'ma break off you're back paws
Thor's hammer crack jaws, attack y'all, fracture your skull
Mountain man axe to your loins
Self-employed like Donald Goines, cash cows on steroids
I don't fall for deceptions or decoys
I'm a beast and I'm clairvoyant
Your soya won't tear the beat up whether or not you appear on it
Double trouble dear promise FUCK YOU and your comments
The chairman of Lyrical Law will be honoured
The last man standing, after the internet is abandoned
James Cameron with a gamma ray cannon
The cops brainwashed Hip Hop
And they came from Saturn, they were the first alien race of rappers
They landed in North Africa, their teeth be gnashing
Their names look like acronyms, they released the Kraken,
They live in underground cabins
They slither fast through the inner-earth labyrinth
They move in S-patterns though deep planet chasms
I chase 'em and trap 'em, detailing the action
For tryna desecrate the Sabbath of the lyrical master, faggots
I laid them on top of each other like Abu Ghraib
They spacecraft look like the Eiffel Tower in Paris
They pray on my downfall they orchestrated Hip Hop's imbalance
They underestimated my talent
I hold the globe up like Atlas
They lied about Canibus -- ask 'em
I'm the world's greatest motherfucking rapper!
They slandered my character through private and public propaganda
They tell the people I'm Dr. Doppelganger
They ask me shit, that they know I'm not gonna answer
Extinction Level Event, they can't stop the disaster
Cocksucker stop the camera, 'cause you know that I'm a miserable bastard
I crack lens, break microchips and melt plastic
You Canibus? - Who's asking?
That's Captain Cold Crush to you maggot, you a lyrical has-been
Lyrical Law's a classic they can't get past it
The beats, the rhymes, the features, every single facet
Lyrical Law's a classic they can't get past it
The beats, the rhymes, the features, every single facet
The microphone assassin 'bout to get at 'em
The Dragon of Judah breathe fire 'til his last breath
Full Battle Rattle in action lyrical Metal Jackets
Coming through with several new attachments
Computers is crashing, hackers is laughing
Rapid eye movement, try to keep up with the captain, what's happening?
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
The Dragon of Judah
Melatonin Magik producer


Mr. Magorium's Metaphor Emporium
Vainglorious warriors with deep space euphoria
The Dragon of Judah executed the Lion from Narnia
I'm still trying build God's army up
The pedagogy tried to call me a communist
And pacify my audience, sprinkle them with zombie dust
The icosahedron is a prison for a three headed demon
Hip Hop behemoth
Knowledge is needed to argue with the followers of Jesus
Rearranging impossible pieces, my quantum is increasing
I am sleeping in a posturpedic, deeply breathing
Dreaming a chakra site-seeing, philosophically speaking
I saw Gandhi weakening from not eating
I saw police brutality beatings
I saw the leaders getting into spaceships and leaving
I tried to search for possible meanings but I couldn't see the logical reasoning
'cept survival of the species, no Macbook no PCs
No electricity, no TV
No emcee battles, no Christmas carols
Just international tabble, brown produce consumed by sick cattle
Bovine mammals hooked up to intravenous vaccination panels
Collecting contaminated skin samples
This is not natural, God damn you!
Everybody on the planet don't deserve that, not even the animals
You are completely culpable for everything you're supposed to do
Even if it's not known to you
The weight of the language I spoke to you
The weight of the letters and the words in the rhymes that I wrote for you
Are so so emotional, I don't even know what to do
So I'ma leave the choice up to you

Dragon of Judah
I spit like a supernatural computer
Professor Bis, I'm with the Minister of Intelligence
Hold me down Professor Griff

[Professor Griff]
Minds that produce minds that produce minds like mines


Now everyone want to talk about conspiracy
You should of took Channel Zero more seriously
Professor Bis got a ghetto Ph.D in Chemistry
Professor Griff taught me how to spit it lyrically
Now I'm part of the Ministry
Put my name on the blacklist cos I don't dickride nobody in the industry
Where's the fucking empathy? I've been through so much treachery
Most of the best emcees disrespected me
and tried to get the best of me, never tried to rescue me
or help me with the recipe, what do they expect from me?
Stressing me, questioning me to address the beef
I rep Hip Hop, Hip Hop don't rep me
I never got a penny off that Beef DVD
You mean all that money went to QD3?
I should have slammed the door in his face
If I was a different nigga, I'da been caught a criminal case
The best word to describe what you do to Hip Hop is 'rape'
Cos you don't care about Hip Hop's fate
You sit around your tables and say grace
Eating steak, while you live like kings and treat kings like apes
For Michael Jackson money, and still on the take
Even Tevin Campbell's money, the greed is so great
You probably dance around your mansion, like Cirque Du Soleil
Everything is paid for, you don't have to pro-rate
I ain't hating, I'm not hating, I'm just saying
You makin' money off the next man's struggle. Why you can't pay him?
They made millions off them Beef DVDs
But didn't pay K-Solo or Eazy E
It's called Blaxploitation
Another one of Canibus' paranoid statements that's why I'm famous
I'm just tryna tell niggas how the game is
Beef in Hip Hop is just aimless entertainment
If I shoot you, I'm blameless
But if you shoot me, you famous, whats a nigga to do?
Now ain't that the goddamn truth
No matter what Hip Hop always lose
Wake the fuck up!

Time Stam.. ah fuck it. It dont matter now. You see it.
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Time Stamp (3rd party) Song# 0.02 Circa: 2002/2003

written by G.W. a.k.a. Canibus
see: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVqHtwaIQ_U

Uh, I don’t understand how a writer would ever get writer’s block, so-called. My problem is having too much, and being unable to get it down

Yo, why is the Ripper so ill?
That would be a unpardonable breach of confidence for me to reveal
He said "One of these days, all eyes would be on me
When they look up in the sky and see the neon C"
Rhymes inscribed on a nickel disk encased
In glass with an ion beam for longevity
For more than ten centuries, impressions and memories
The first time machine inventor will mention me
Canibus was a visionary indeed
He believed light could travel in multiples of C
The organic supercomputer that solved the mysteries
Of Klein Kaluza with two blue metric rulers
Liked Cool J, but thought Stephen Jay Gould was cooler
And he never liked to propagate rumors
Smoked Canary Island cigars
Liked American luxury cars and beautiful Asian broads
He had a strong mind, he used to philosophize
About rhymes while he was pruning his bonsai
He claimed that he had written the greatest rhyme of all time
But he would never take it out his archives
He wrote two songs per day
And was constantly experimenting with his wordplay
In his youth he did a report on the Sloan Digital Sky Survey
He got an F but he deserved an A
I followed his career from the first day
It seemed a lack of support contributed to his inert ways
I seen him pull in 24 hour workdays
With deferred pay, undeterred by the word "shame"
Public humiliation was the worst pain
He was spinning out of control like a Class 5 hurricane
He said he wouldn't want another MC to suffer the same
Especially when there's nothing to gain
He was the illest alive but nobody would face it
He spit until his tongue was too torched to taste it
Privately funded corporations carbon dated his latest creations
To extract the information
They found it utterly amazing
They claimed the body of his work was the same thing as a priceless painting
Never mattered to him that art galleries hated him
Cause Thomas Kinkade called and said he would take 10
Complete enigmas wrapped in puzzles encrypted in language
With sound but without shape or signature
Kept files in his garage on MS-DOS
In a fire-proof pod, he thought it was odd
Outside there was a shed with an Oppenheimer lock
He apparently kept more wax then Madame Tussaud's
We were in total awe, cause it blew our minds
So many rhymes that were intricately designed
He was Poet Laureate of his time
And if you don't mind, I'd like to share some of his rhymes
Alone in my room, looking through the 32X telescope zoom
Adjusting the focus of the moon
One should not assume the philosophy of David Hume
Is nothing more then a subjective conclusion
What is the maximum field rate application?
The runaway glaciation surrounding the ocean basin
Affects the population fluctuation
On a continuous basis but that's just the basics
The juxtaposition of Canibus' position
The precision of something no other has written
Way above and beyond what was intended
The unparalleled malleable enunciation of a sentence
You didn't go to college obviously
I can tell by your ungodly unintelligible terminology
A remarkable odyssey, the rhymes of modern speeds
When the brain orders the body not to breathe
Your competency is not up to speed, you're not in my league
You couldn't possibly be hotter then me
Or oppositely your minus 25 degrees, you'd squeeze
But the condensation makes rifle barrels freeze
Allow me to speak figuratively, nigga please
My intellectual properties are about the size of Greece
Your counselor advised you not to speak
My counselor advised me to keep rhyming until they stopped the beat
In the words of Joseph Heller, "I learned how to write better"
Even though it sort of irked me
He said he didn't understand the process of the imagination
But he felt he was at its mercy
Which explains my point perfectly and certainly reinforces
The reason why nobody's probably ever heard of me
Couldn't understand what I mean by ill
Unless you try to translate what I print to film
This is the line of will, the circle of time
The cycle of eternity, the emergence of 1 line
Academic phonetics render critics tongue-tied
I've personified dry humor of cum laude alumni
A wise man sees failure as progress
A fool divorces his knowledge and misses the logic
And loses his soul in the process
Obsessed with nonsense with a caricature that has no content
My style is masterful, multilateral
I could battle a fool and be naturally cruel
Words of scorn are a disastrous tool
From an existentialist's view I'm a better rapper than you
Grab the mic and rip your physical fabric in 2
My attitude is fucked up but admirable
Different methods interpreted into different forms
From entirely different perceptions and seen from different norms
Not just spittin' a poem, there’s much more involved
There's much more pieces of the puzzle for you to solve
48 orders of mechanical laws
And rays of creational cause, enhance the cadence of my bars
Maybe I am self-absorbed
But that's the effect, to find the cause you should ask my A&R
Today is what it is, but only because yesterday was what it was
Permitting you heard of Beezlebub
A tale of demons and drugs, pissy drunk in the club
With the DJ doing the needle rub
Chances are you'll never see me son
Yeah I know my name's Canibus but I can't help you if you need a dub
I came to holla at some big booty bitches
And listen to the speakers thump, where you get conceited from?
I'm so nice on the mic, they want to beat me up
Its deep as fuck, I ain't seen it all but I've seen enough
Really unbelievable stuff
There's a lot of times when I want to speak but I'm stuck
I should leave this rap shit alone
And kick my incredible rhymes in the privacy of my own home
My imagination is my own
The liberty to speak to freely lyrically on the microphone
With a pen in my hand, I bring motion to the enneagram
And become "Cani-millenia man"
Engrave my back with the emperor's stamp
Been spitting scientific rap since the 17th century began
Trying to escape the wicked empire of Def Jam
And the land where lyrics are bland and heretics hang
Every warrior has an axe to bury
But he has to learn to discern between enemy and adversary
I said to myself, "Germaine, this is insane
It's suicide its controlled flight into terrain"
I fought to regain control of the plain, but went up in a ball of flames
And got banned from the hip-hop hall of fame
For two bars I kept hearing in my head
Over and over again, it cost me everything
I'm convinced now that more than the truth is at stake
Where people create language that pretends to communicate
Euphemisms are misunderstood as mistakes
But its a bi-product of the ghetto music we make
From an extroverted point of view I think its too late
Hip Hop has never been the same since '88
Since it became a lucrative profession
There's a misconception that a movement in any direction is progression
Even though the potency of it lessens
Big money industries writing checks to suppress the question
And nobody gives a fuck no more, no one goes to the book store
Ever since the confluence of Moore's Law
But I stay in the lab like Niels Bohr
His son Aage, Edward Lawrence, and Leo Szilard
Lyrically I take rap music and turn the knob
To the right full throttle and added panache
Why would I argue with my own conscience over the truth?
That's like me telling myself, "Don't tell me what to do"
Dialysis and analyses of battle MC's
Sometimes I say things I myself can't believe
My lyrical is so skillfully elliptical
I can understand how it makes you miserable
You wonder why I never let you play your beats for me
Or why I keep my studio enshrouded in secrecy
You wonder whats my infatuation with Alicia Keys
"Canibus why don't you speak to me?"
Yo, I meant it when I said no one can shine on a song that features me
That's why I said it so vehemently
You need to replace the hate with respect
I'm probably the best yet, Poet Laureate

[Outro — James Dickey sample]
Generally I take… I go with the given, you know, with what comes ta me over, the celestial wireless… Whenever it comes. You’re lucky when you get it

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Hextraterrestrial

May 2017

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