Put this in your CD-ROM:
www dot Canibus dot com.
You can find me on the Internet, talkin’ to chicks
That was sweatin’ me off the ‘Music Makes Me High’ remix.
I be talkin’ mad trash, tryin to get ’em to laugh.
See, if I click and drag long enough I’ll get the ass…
When I was born, my mama’s pussy had the new car smell.
And how ‘bout the non-blunt rollin’ females
That always fucks it up ’cause they don’t wanna break their Lee nails?
Shorty, let me tell you about my only vice:
It has to do with lots of lovin’, and it ain’t nuttin’ nice.
I’m like an eclipse on a Friday the 13th,
With black cats and Haley’s Comet,
Blazin’ blunts in my driveway…
Every night I pray to God: ‘Please, no more wack MC’s.’
Shakespeare’s gone, don’t even think about it.
Tell ya mama to stop flirtin’ boy, I’m not a good step-pop.
I interrupt your little session…and wreck shop.
Look here: “Mo’ money, mo’ problems,” my ass.
You’s a naive cat if you still believe that.
For what it’s worth, I’ve been a hip-hopper from birth.
Try to disrespect, and get your ass played up like a Smurf.
Keep bustin about where you rest, and what you own, and what you drive.
So the day some niggaz come for you, I’m really not surprised.
I won’t say I’m the baddest, or portray that role,
But I’m in the top 2, and my father’s gettin’ old.
Lemonade was a popular drink and it still is;
I get more props and stunts than Bruce Willis.
Brothers ain’t half-steppin…they’re walking backwards.
Some girls barely speak, but always askin’ for a dollar.