Top Songs By Cannibal Ox
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Cannibal Ox
Performer
Rock Marciano
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
J. Cross
Songwriter
Jonathan Owens
Songwriter
P. Chapman
Songwriter
R. Meyers
Songwriter
S Gardener
Songwriter
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
It go, gangsta-gangsta, thug, killa
I'm the black panther that shot the drug dealer
I live on the block where dudes bust they knocks
Ride on top of the car, they crush they rocks
**** hop my fence to run from cops
Shit, I'm a **** too so I know how **** do
Keep it real, you should let that bullshit silence
You only been involved in domestic violence
[Verse 2]
****, I chase Remis with Long Islands
Catch us in the club, doing them wrong wildin'
The microphone marvelous, Marvin Hagler
It's obvious, in the lobby, suavely dressed
Where the party is? Round trip flight to La Guardia
Nobody dodge when we walk through the audience
[Verse 3]
Dolo with more dough to blow though, for sure though
Slide one deep in a four door, I'm poor though
Catch me rocking a Lisa Lobo, bump yo ho
I want more for the four row
[Verse 4]
And the Pope can't save your soul
What I unfold was written in gold, hieroglyphic Egyptian scroll
Streets I've been in from the beginning, I'm a legend
Never fleein' from my enemies, shots I'm sending
Musical martyr like John Lennon, from the beginning
Spit with a vengeance, semi-automatic weapon repping
Calm stop, warlock like David Geffen
Blowin' ox, like oxygen out of my nostrils
[Verse 5]
Seen brave men fight for they honor and even die
Two gorgeous divas blowing the heaters down the ride
To the end of the Earth, through hell, water and fire
Queen Messiah, camouflage black attire
Magnum opus, top five, dead or alive
The feds focus my militants, swervin' the lotus
Mossberg in the hostess, I write then release it
Then I bless the street, giving birth to soldiers
[Verse 6]
Rolls gold, King Tut piece, flooded with boulders
I praise Allah, making salat, facing the east
This is for the black and white babies starving to eat
Think differently
[Verse 7]
Poverty stricken, fried chicken, fly rhyme kicking
Blind visions from the mind's wisdom in this crime religion
**** listen, what I'm spitting is hard as prison
Benches in the trenches, grim intentions, twin Doberman pinches
Leather trenches, lead drenches for brat endless gats, eleven inches
Ya neck, slit it, your head, spin it
The epidemic will spread infinite so once the thread is knitted
For seven digits, it's just business, no disrespect intended
[Verse 8]
To he who feel offended, a beatdown cannot be prevented
Beginnin', the game, I'm deep in it, until my Yankee fitted
Squish three Lee Haney ****, squeeze three eighty triggers
Used to fuck my babysitters, now I whip Mercedes-Benz'
I stand alone 'cause I'm grown, for me to crush the Walkman
Gang lover, supporter of any sort when I'm in New York
Rollin' for dolo, the Willie Bobo, gotta door, word to Jomo
The kid in the polo got the world on a yo-yo
[Verse 9]
Your happy meal skills is still, no frills
Cook pills, sign deals, when you see me, just kneel
Or whoppin' meals, your hospital bill
Blood from your nostril spilled, it's not looking well
When I lick off shots, the hostages yell
Chopper fell like ox tail, your optic's swell
[Verse 10]
Ninjas with blades raised from jungles of wolves
In hoods where hammers bark and the tenants spark
Police on radar so we stay fogged up
Puffin' blunts, sippin' Goose and damage
God damn it's hard, but still we gettin' by like rhinos
Ones that peel, crucified on the Earth for guns and nails
Nine inches, hurt, I cause stitches, build with Gods on track
[Verse 11]
Suffering visible scars, it's hard to relax, ready to spaz, no weed
Thirst for cash, times moving fast
We like cheaters with masks, lighting cheeba and hash
Tryin' to balance the steps, screaming, we need freedom
Tired of bleeding where eagles let out evil
Talons of death, no time for weakness
Higher heights to reach, advance the concrete with iron feet
Written by: J. Cross, Jonathan Owens, P. Chapman, R. Meyers, S Gardener
