Beasts from the East

Yo, we come through like balls, see us n****s taking two pulls and pass

N**** watch your back once you talk out your a**

I pack a three-eighty in my stash for protection

Family to raise, the world is acting crazed

I never thought I'd make it, it was hectic when I scrambled

On point like a knife I'm taking life as a gamble

Living in the rotten apple, yo where every core is rotten

All my n****s rest in peace, see you gone but not forgotten

Now my main wifey, dead as shady chicks

Official Lost Boyz since the year of '86

And f*** these crooked n****s I could kill 'em with a passion

At times I feel like slashing in Jamaican Queens fashion

You think you can f*** around, but, kid, you just thinking

It's over when I'm sober, imagine when I'm drinking

Without blinking, man, I'll tear your crew like pages

I rip you from the backyard, ball, chains and stages

A plus the lyrically superb one, spitting rhymes

Off the top of the tongue to burn ya ear drums

Rotten sh**, make the opposite team call time out

Knocking n****s three times my size out

Style loves me, so when I ain't around, they ask for me

I buckle up to kick rap like a crash dummy

For the fast money,  I get up in that a** money

The fact you tryna to test me kinda bugs me

I leave crews fed up, like handicap n****s tryna to get up

Emcees get wet up with lyrical gun pellets

I blow up the spot when it's time to rock

I speak out, my voice box peak out at a hundred watts

Who wanna cipher, I get dumb

Word to my mother, the Father, the Holy Ghost, and Rev Run

When the source set it down, I'm inna service

To cop the kind of verses that average emcees will worship

My style is milk of magnesia, clutch the five speed and bust

The more the merrier, secure the area, my la familia

Is ultimate superior we don't jack cars

We jack for aircraft carriers

I bounce like trampolines, when I be blowing the fiends to pieces

Hymn 'em like sewing machines and Jesus

When the shadows of the barrel pointing out my boy Camaro

I get punished like pharaoh for splitting

You're better off singing Christmas carols for Christmas

Because I'm on point like bow and arrow equipment

The president of chicken head conventions

I give you a deluxe Ku Klux lynching

I got a headache from the stress, success, not wearing a vest

Five-eleven for being dirty, quarts of nine-thirty

Yo, Mr. Cheeks, I made this b**** call police

She tried swallowing a nine piece

Forgot the warranty on false teeth

I return like Makaveli on eighteen-inch Pirelli's

Assault and battery like my palm says Eveready

Sharp as machetes, matter of fact I slap the cardiac

Cannibus brings the sickest drama

Fierce enough to pierce the thickest armor

I smack b****es who try to suck dick through the condom

Playing with the mic is something I won't do

My only concern when I approach you, is to roast you

I smoke you and whoever you standing close to

And make every man in your crew deny that he knows you

Defeating n****s like Segal, Steven

Putting emcees in positions to prevent them from breathing

I'll make you question any and everything you ever believed in

By peeping your deepest secrets like psychic readers

What's the matter with y'all, I splatter y'all

Against the motherf***in' wall with these raw lyrics I catapult

None of y'all got the balls big enough to battle

I go on and on like Erykah Badu

A hundred times nicer than the best is

Twice as African as KRS is, who wanna test this?

F*** y'all, you don't impress me and no one can test me

An emcee so ill, I got AIDS scared to catch me

All that sh** you popping will stop, when I put you in a headlock

And apply pressure until I crush your motherf***in' noggin

I grab mics and push n****s to the left

So fast their hearts end up on the right side of their chests

My hypothesis, is that nobody can see this

Lyrical genius, I got it sown like a seamstress

But if you want to battle, I'm down

If you got nine lives, I'll take eight of them off your hands right now

Step up and get your neck cut from ear to ear

If you survive then you can cover up your scar with a beard

I'm the illest from Queens to the new Jerusalem briddicks

Anyone who ain't feeling my shiddit can suck my diddick

You need to quit it, if you aint' spitting

More than 50 bars per minute 'cause you ain't in lyrical fitness

Kickin' boring raps with metaphors that's wack

All of y'all motherf***as need Nordic Track

To get ya weight up, f***ing with Cannibus you get ate up

Beat down and sprayed up, just for bringing my name up

Been rocking longer than n****s twice my age

Back in the days before Bob Marley was rocking a fade

Before Honest Abe signed the paper that freed slaves

Before Neanderthals was drawing on the walls in caves

I existed, in the garden of Eden getting lifted

Sticking dick to Eve before she was Adam's mistress

Before Christ created Christmas, I been in lyrical fitness

The cannibus is spitting till he's spit-less

50 bars of total sickness, you won't forget this

I'm putting every wack emcee alive on my sh** list

Verbally vicious, telekinetically gifted

Took you a minute to exhibit that I'm sick wit it

Now you tell me who you think is damaging sh**

Going once, going twice

Sold to that n**** name Cannibus

Me and Mr. Cheeks, A Plus, and Funk Doctor

Hopping out the Huey helicopter to suey chop ya