Feb. 9th, 2017

The Ripper

Feb. 9th, 2017 03:07 pm
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Time Stamp (3rd party) Song# 0.01 Circa: 2008
See: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t8e2ZZ-_5mA

Written by G.W. a.k.a. Canibus

I'm the real king of my kingdom
I make my women practice isolationism as soon as I get 'em
Run my world with an iron rod behind iron bars
Enclosed behind iron doors in a small iron box in the corner
Shielded behind firewalls and water doors
Down the gaseous corridor, welcome to my world of horror!
A coroner with an immortal aura
The rhyme slanging Highlander Ripper, rip you to live longer
Get stronger every record that I record
Morph my arms into a sword and clotheslines you running forward
You can't ignore 'Bis, motherfucker I started this!
As far as artists that spit, Canibus is dominant
Hot shit from a lava pit studied by oceanographers
At the ocean's bottom, with rocketship sound effects
A Ripper in the flesh, signed in ink, nigga
You ain't ill if you need to time to think
You talk shit, my personality split, you get ripped and that's it
A "True Hollywood Story" bitch
In my world Germaine's gone, Canibus is just a moniker
Stay behind the follow-up and demolish you fucks
Can-I-bust? (YEAH!) Now that's what I'm talkin 'bout
Call me Mr. Spit Shit, also known as Toilet Mouth
Y'all been warned about a million times
I done wrote about a million rhymes since July '85
When I'm writing I'm impervious to fraud
My fine art's verbal collage is worthy of the Gods
When I'm 30 years old, I'mma quit rhymin
Collect my own catalogue and open up a library
Lock myself in solitary six months at a time
Work at the university and teach sick fucks how to rhyme
NOBODY'S SAFE, NOBODY can say that they great
I put a jacker's cold body in a crate
Trap his soul in an electromagnetic vase
Put the crate on a wide lowrider and drive it in a lake
Look in my eyes, then look in my face
Nobody's here to arbitrate, realize it's time for your FATE!
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
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Angela: "You call that music?"

Fred: "Yes. I also consider it poetic and pertinent. Did you get the call?"

Angela: "Who called?"

Fred: "Nevermind"

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