Текст песни Canibus f Pras, Product, Wyclef - Can-I-Bus
Canibus f Pras, Product, Wyclef - Can-I-Bus слова песни
[Canibus]Yo, yoIf you just listen to my lyrics every day for a couple of weeksMy techniques will eventually kill you just like red meatThe Bhagavad Gita beliefs I speak be so deepMost critics get mad because there`s nothin to critiqueWhenever I`m rappin or rhyminwith irrefutably remarkable timinI`m like, Charlie Chaplin pantomiminIf you John Blaze, or you James Flamesor you Jack Cremation, I`m Jermaine Propane (Jermaine Propane)No pain no gain in this rap gameFor the fortune and fame in order to remainMost real MC`s, learn to adapt to the changeor get washed away like tears in the rain, in the rain y`allChorus: Wyclef, Product, Pras[Clef] Just ride, just ride, ah just ride e`rybody just ride Just ride, just ride, ah just ride e`rybody just ride[Pro] When you in the streets and you`re drivin in your V if you can see what I see, you`re prepared for the jackers[Can] Old school, old school[Pras] Everybody got to pack a mac now[Canibus]Yo, if you wanna know, how I kick a flowwhen I rip a show, with my lyric-al, I`ma let you knowIt`s difficult, cause I`m a part spiritual, part para-physical miracleAnd I`ma blackout in a minute tooSpittin like Bone-Thugs like "Nigga-what? I`m-fin-to-get-a-gun and stick-em-up"then crush a Thug`s Bones with a chrome slugThe black Cyrano DeBergerac of rapwith the ghetto Anglo-Sax` poetic syntaxIn fact, nigga don`t even give me dap when I see youJust don`t give me no ice grill eye contact eitherWhen you see me, whylin like Beenie on the speakers"Zim zimma -- who got the fire for my reefa?"Chorus: Product, Pras, Wyclef[Pro] You came home from a bid a nigga was in your crib And the whole time you thought your girl was celebate[Can] Old school old school[Pras] You locked up and she need some di-ick[Clef] Just ride, just ride, ah just ride e`rybody just ride Just ride in the hood, just ride, all my .. uh, ah just ride[Canibus]Yo physically I move at a velocitythat`ll break your stopwatch if you clockin meMy concrete jungle is like JumanjiIller than what you seen in the cinemaA five foot eight, nigga with more horsepower than eight cylindersMy brain consists of twin Pentium chipsDouble the clock speeds of a 586And nothin about my physical matrix is BASICI kick flavor beyond what your tongue is capable of tastinYou`ll be so surprised you won`t believe your own eyesIt`s like a Jamaican seein the snow for the first timeRhymes of a sort, that distort space and timeIt`s like explainin color to a man that was born blindChorus: Product[Pro] Crimes on the street, come from a lack of eatin It`s not my cup of tea, but I`ll give them the BEST Motherfuckin BEST And if you still out here I kick yo` ass tomorrow[Can] Old school, old school (c`mon!)[Pro] And if you still out here, I kick yo` ass tomorrow[Can] Old school, old school (c`mon y`all)[Pro] Frontin like you buyin food but you buyin crack bottles [Wyclef] Ah just ride, ah just ride Everybody in the East just ride Ah just ride, ah just ride Everybody in the West just ride Ah to the South, down South Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Ah just ride