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letra de vocab - the heralds of extreme metaphors (t.h.e.m.)

[verse 1: webb]
let me flip it, i’m like a crook when i kick it
i blow microphones like nine double limp-bizkits
i’m wicked, who want to test it? did you study?
i’ll leave the whole god d-mn battlefield bl–dy
i’m talented – i walk across the water on my hands
my rhymes contain more information than dna strands
so bust it, i’ll bring it to your nugget
’cause i’ll get ill, like a tap-phone guy when i bug it
i’m rugged, so hit me with a b-tter instrumental
i’ll flip and drop the h-ll out of a rhyme like a rental
you sore, your whole train of thought will get cut off
but that’s what you get for trying to bring it to the door

[verse 2: canibus]
about one of these days, you need more than an average mc
i’m like a condom, don’t try and do it without me
when i step on-stage to do a show
i’ll blow the spot with the bomb squad sitting in the front row
my dirty techniques couldn’t be cleaned with bleach
my style is b-tt-naked, like a nude beach
and everybody get your brew each when we partying
dressed in black like military frog-men
free-scholar, prepare to be just like a rottweiler
even the bootleg tape of me is ten dollars
listen to what i’m saying to you now
i give my voice-box an oil change every three-thousand styles
because my styles be using knowledge
and my knowledge be adding up like a tour-bus’ mileage
i’ve been rocking rhymes since slavery was abolished
rock-solid; you couldn’t see me with an open eyelid
n-ggas say that i’m wack, but i don’t care what they say
i only remember ten percent of what i hear anyway
now, we can battle anytime, any day
i be watching n-ggas like david h-sselhoff on the bay
because i need more energy than my enemies
if i want to make more bills than bellamy
so i can be on tele-v
with b-tches constantly telling me that i look like billy dee
i make fly rhymes to get my name on the the scene
then when i’m on the scene, i do shows to get the green
then i take the green, buy a automobile machine
to get that thing on page forty-three of jet magazine

[chorus: canibus and webb]
i be making n-ggas mad with my vocab
i be making n-ggas mad with my vocab
“i scream on your -ss like your dad!”

[verse 3: webb]
listen when i speak it, peep it, with twelve-hundred techniques, i freak it
i’ll be like a missile when i heat-seek it
a superhero like thor
i make my entrance through your floor then make my exit through your door
i flip like david banner with my star-spangled
you getting tangled, you talking that sh-t, your style is -n-l
perseverance, time to take off; i got clearance
i sn-tch your whole sh-t while my n-ggas run interference
i bounce to other galaxies looking for herb on other planets
’cause i react like live drum beats when i slam it
so open corridor, hit the floor, empty the store
see, i be blowing spots when i tote my forty-four
microphone, my genetic codes can’t be cloned
see, i can go longer than females gossip on the phone
i’m abstract when i make my verbal contact
i get you heated like you see your moms get slapped
being real comes first, and everything else is secondary
my vocab will slap you in the face like a dictionary
cause i got knowledge, to h-ll with your hundred-thousand dollar college
i have kings paying me homage
for dropping mathematics, from calculus to statics
d-mn right it’s dramatic, i be that microphone fanatic
with vocal tracks that’ll clear like crystal
concealed like a pistahl, you suck like a nipahl

[chorus (canibus and webb)x4]
i be making n-ggas mad with my vocab
i be making n-ggas mad with my vocab
“i scream on your -ss like your dad!”

[verse 4: canibus]
prepare for the worst, my second verse is the face of death
me without lyrics is like a p-rn-fl!ck without s-x
illmatic, my lyrical sk!lls are jur-ssic
with more flavor than skittles when i’m digitally mastered
i go off like a cannon, blow up the planet with “no fear”
like them clothes white boys be wearing
i’m tougher than denim
lethal like venomous snake bites
the marijuana makes my eyes bright red like brake lights
there’s not a party i couldn’t rock, believe that
there ain’t a microphone brave enough to give me feedback
i’m strong, my word is bond like james
n-ggas be trying to test but they weak like seven days
mc’s run away when i kick it
they act so chicken that they should come with a large drink and a biscuit
my style is radioactive, m-ssive atomic
yo, i plan to push the earth in front of halley’s comet
breaking the ‘facts of life’ down like tootie, i’m raw like sushi
with more vocab than three f-cking fugees
so recognize or be hospitalized
cause lyrically on a scale of one to ten, i’m a dime

[chorus (canibus and webb)x4]
i be making n-ggas mad with my vocab
i be making n-ggas mad with my vocab
“i scream on your -ss like your dad!”

- the heralds of extreme metaphors t h e m

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