JacheOReally
Active member
2pac
Lyrics give me chills
Lyrics give me chills
Best poetic raper
- Thread starter THEDICKBUTCHER
- Start date
kingcomet32
Member
idk about the poetic part, by brian peppers has got the raper part down
SirFryanator
Active member
YES.
Grynch, Geo, Common Market, Gabriel Teodros. The quadruplet of Seattle artists Sabzi works with, all of them almost equally poetic.
Other than that, I'd say Slug, Sage Francis, Black Thought (from the Roots). Dante Castro (the artist from NS) is also ridiculously good, extremely poetic. Listen to his song "Supernatural". Goddamn almost my entire list of favorite rappers are poetic, I can't really listen to too much rap without any deep meaning. Doesn't matter to me if the voice is amazing, it sounds like shit and dissonance to me unless there is some sort of real emotion behind the words.
Grynch, Geo, Common Market, Gabriel Teodros. The quadruplet of Seattle artists Sabzi works with, all of them almost equally poetic.
Other than that, I'd say Slug, Sage Francis, Black Thought (from the Roots). Dante Castro (the artist from NS) is also ridiculously good, extremely poetic. Listen to his song "Supernatural". Goddamn almost my entire list of favorite rappers are poetic, I can't really listen to too much rap without any deep meaning. Doesn't matter to me if the voice is amazing, it sounds like shit and dissonance to me unless there is some sort of real emotion behind the words.
Totes_Magotes
Active member
damn, you beat me to it.. ^^^THIS..
and i definately want this teacher next year at pchs, if shes that legit
and i definately want this teacher next year at pchs, if shes that legit
SirFryanator
Active member
Ok sorry to dub post but I can't believe I forgot Eyedea. One of my top 5 favorite artists of all time.
no_steeze
Active member
my wrinkled trenchcoat falls to the groundas i tear off your skirt and whip you aroundthat's right bitch, you gonna get violatedall the poetic raper's victims get annihilated
you can't handle my force and my prosei steal your innocence like all them other hoesyou beg me to stop issuing rhymesbut i cover your mouth and squeeze your nipples and dimes
i finish inside you while groaning a coupletyou run away screaming...if only you were a quintuplet
you can't handle my force and my prosei steal your innocence like all them other hoesyou beg me to stop issuing rhymesbut i cover your mouth and squeeze your nipples and dimes
i finish inside you while groaning a coupletyou run away screaming...if only you were a quintuplet
ax_murderer
Active member
honestly, your presentation is going to be a joke if you have anyone other than 2pac. these guys arent poets, they are rappers, what are you going to say about their poetry? "see here biggie rimmed broads, with menage a trois(sp?)? give me a break.
your better off just choosing a kick ass poet. i'd go with robert service. all kinds of sick stuff about the goldrush and the northwest territories, winter, and the outdoors here is a great one you've prolly read.
soo sick. it'll give people shivers if you read it aloud with a good delivery.
its called the cremation of sam mcgee
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ‘round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ‘taint being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”
A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;” . . . then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
—From Later Collected Verse; by Robert Service;
Dodd, Mead & Company; New York; 1970; pages 33-36.
i used to have it all memorized. wish i still did. if you choose him, make sure to check out the spell of the yukon, and another of my personal favorites the reckoning.
i highly recommend him.
your better off just choosing a kick ass poet. i'd go with robert service. all kinds of sick stuff about the goldrush and the northwest territories, winter, and the outdoors here is a great one you've prolly read.
soo sick. it'll give people shivers if you read it aloud with a good delivery.
its called the cremation of sam mcgee
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ‘round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ‘taint being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”
A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows—O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked;” . . . then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
—From Later Collected Verse; by Robert Service;
Dodd, Mead & Company; New York; 1970; pages 33-36.
i used to have it all memorized. wish i still did. if you choose him, make sure to check out the spell of the yukon, and another of my personal favorites the reckoning.
i highly recommend him.
ax_murderer
Active member
rhymed*
Totes_Magotes
Active member
oh. and this... Read - IMMORTAL TECHNIQUE
[Intro]
You have to speak the truth
You have to speak your mind
[Verse 1]
Every time I speak my mind I'm lyrically critical
The pinnacle of being revolutionarily pivotal
Beyond anything ever studied thats metaphysical
Man fuck a minority, I'm not politically minimal
But obviously terminologies that are statistical
Are manufactured to be unequivocally subliminal
Transmitted by monopolized media visuals
So I riddle hypocritically pitiful criminals
Habitually utilizing typical rituals
With false pretense in attempts to be spiritual
TO individuals who believe in biblical miracles
Instead of themselves, because they're not thinking original
And the color of their skin makes them feel invisible
Like microscopic miscarriages lynched wit the umbilical
Only a fuckin imbecile would think their uncorrectable
Cause your susceptible to becoming more than a spectacle
Remember that your flesh your blood and you body are dissectable
Ill beat you until your vegetable
And wake up in a hospital covered in poisonous chemicals
In a fetal position wit your face sewn to your testicles
Thinkin that you were kidnapped by extraterrestrials
You got heart? I'm the blood that pumps in your ventricles
Technique, I'm like ya soul nigga.. indispensable
Wit no respect for those that cower at the hour of revolution
Cause the government owes my people restitution
Instead of sedatives like cocaine and prostitution
Conclusion is that you'll have to violently silence me
Cause I raid the airwaves of cutthroat piracy
In school my teachers blinded me
But now I can see
I'm mentally and revolutionarily free
Broadening Horizons about what my people could be
If we wasn't set up to get shot locked or OD
You see families bleed because of corporate greed
And monopolizing weed is virtually impossible
So it wont be legalized and thats another obstacle
But I'm still rollin up pocket fulls of tropical
The governments involved directly so its unstoppable
Like a nuclear rocket full of biochemical toxins that invade the ecological
Improbable that the average intellect could understand
So I encrypted this into hip hop thats in high demand
and spread it through the ghetto of every city like contraband
Stomp a man of any complexion with a devilish nature
Cause I'm tryin to save the earth, but your just next in line to rape her
[Intro]
You have to speak the truth
You have to speak your mind
[Verse 1]
Every time I speak my mind I'm lyrically critical
The pinnacle of being revolutionarily pivotal
Beyond anything ever studied thats metaphysical
Man fuck a minority, I'm not politically minimal
But obviously terminologies that are statistical
Are manufactured to be unequivocally subliminal
Transmitted by monopolized media visuals
So I riddle hypocritically pitiful criminals
Habitually utilizing typical rituals
With false pretense in attempts to be spiritual
TO individuals who believe in biblical miracles
Instead of themselves, because they're not thinking original
And the color of their skin makes them feel invisible
Like microscopic miscarriages lynched wit the umbilical
Only a fuckin imbecile would think their uncorrectable
Cause your susceptible to becoming more than a spectacle
Remember that your flesh your blood and you body are dissectable
Ill beat you until your vegetable
And wake up in a hospital covered in poisonous chemicals
In a fetal position wit your face sewn to your testicles
Thinkin that you were kidnapped by extraterrestrials
You got heart? I'm the blood that pumps in your ventricles
Technique, I'm like ya soul nigga.. indispensable
Wit no respect for those that cower at the hour of revolution
Cause the government owes my people restitution
Instead of sedatives like cocaine and prostitution
Conclusion is that you'll have to violently silence me
Cause I raid the airwaves of cutthroat piracy
In school my teachers blinded me
But now I can see
I'm mentally and revolutionarily free
Broadening Horizons about what my people could be
If we wasn't set up to get shot locked or OD
You see families bleed because of corporate greed
And monopolizing weed is virtually impossible
So it wont be legalized and thats another obstacle
But I'm still rollin up pocket fulls of tropical
The governments involved directly so its unstoppable
Like a nuclear rocket full of biochemical toxins that invade the ecological
Improbable that the average intellect could understand
So I encrypted this into hip hop thats in high demand
and spread it through the ghetto of every city like contraband
Stomp a man of any complexion with a devilish nature
Cause I'm tryin to save the earth, but your just next in line to rape her
Slinger1x1
Active member
chali 2na
haha
but seriously, Typical Cats whole entire CD is really poetic. its fucking epic. one of my favorites
haha
but seriously, Typical Cats whole entire CD is really poetic. its fucking epic. one of my favorites
AEROPLAEHN
Active member
sage francis, mos def, immortal technique, ODB
nkinsman10
Active member
tupac wrote poetry before rapping
applejuice.
Active member
this
skiingonskis
Active member
Atmosphere, GZA
low_fidelity
Active member
Larry's +Bird+ flew outta Nicholas' +Cage+
Joe +Tex+ messages from Satchel's +Paige+
Betty +Wright+ letters with ink from Sean's +Penn+
Infinite bars, you couldn't tell where the song end
Glenn +Close+ enough to quickly duck the tapes
Richard +Gere+ ripped while he was climbin Bill +Gates+
He was a southerner, posing as a, native New Yorker
The Jason +Kidd+ took his first steps in Jimmy's +Walker+
He stayed on line chattin with rap celebs
Used Bernie's +Mack+ to search Veronica's +Webb+
It cost them their life for the advice you gave
Now Pete +Rose+ lay on Vanessa's +Redgrave+
sean +Comb+ed through the evidence, just to get a clue
The needle in the haystack, from outta earth this kid
The Tiger +Wood+ kill him once thrown in Brad's +Pitt+
Jesse +Owen+ the money from the weed Bubba +Sparxxx+
They was journeys seen far as he walked in Dick's +Clark+
Jeffery +Lyons+ stuck with a thorn from George's +Bush+
Paul +Pierce+d in the heart as the crowd pushed
Joe +Tex+ messages from Satchel's +Paige+
Betty +Wright+ letters with ink from Sean's +Penn+
Infinite bars, you couldn't tell where the song end
Glenn +Close+ enough to quickly duck the tapes
Richard +Gere+ ripped while he was climbin Bill +Gates+
He was a southerner, posing as a, native New Yorker
The Jason +Kidd+ took his first steps in Jimmy's +Walker+
He stayed on line chattin with rap celebs
Used Bernie's +Mack+ to search Veronica's +Webb+
It cost them their life for the advice you gave
Now Pete +Rose+ lay on Vanessa's +Redgrave+
sean +Comb+ed through the evidence, just to get a clue
The needle in the haystack, from outta earth this kid
The Tiger +Wood+ kill him once thrown in Brad's +Pitt+
Jesse +Owen+ the money from the weed Bubba +Sparxxx+
They was journeys seen far as he walked in Dick's +Clark+
Jeffery +Lyons+ stuck with a thorn from George's +Bush+
Paul +Pierce+d in the heart as the crowd pushed
THEDICKBUTCHER
Active member
thank you all soo much for the imput! I'm officially doing tupac because he actually does inspire me so much. him and biggie much more but someone else is doing biggie now and i thought someone was doing pac before but he backed out so i decided he'd be my best option. I will also use this thread to search for some tunes im all about poetic RAPPERS, it jsut has to have a meaning unlike aweful lil wayne and soulja boiii haha thanks again ns! keep it going for some good music finds!
easy_cam_steezy
Active member
Common
Biggie
Go listen to "Dance With The Devil" by Immortal Technique
that's some intense shit for your ears...
Biggie
Go listen to "Dance With The Devil" by Immortal Technique
that's some intense shit for your ears...
neutralzombie
Active member
mos def!
neutralzombie
Active member
hahhahaha or dirt nasty
Thenowhereman42
Active member
If it was for a poetry probably the dude out of blue scholars, he's deep for real.
VT_FLO
Active member
Poet Laureate 2 - Canibus
No doubt on this one at all. Canibus is the illest.
[Sampled Intro: same outro from Poet Laureate]
Uhh I dont understand how a writer could ever get writer's block, so called
My problem is having too much.. and being unable to get it down...
[Canibus]
Yo, why is the ripper so ill?
That would be a unpardonable breach of confidence for me to reveal!
He said one day all eyes would be on me
when they look up in the sky and see the neon 'C'
Rhymes inscribed on a nickel disk encased
in glass with an ion beam for longevity
For more then 10 centuries, impressions and memories
the first time-machine inventor will mention me
Canibus was a visionary indeed
he believed light could travel in multiples of c
The organic supercomputer that solved the mysteries
of Klein-Kaluza with 2 blue metric rulers
Liked Cool J, but thought Stephen Jay Gould was cooler
and he never liked to propagate rumors
Smoked Canary Island cigars
liked American luxury cars and beautiful Asian broads
He had a strong mind, he used to philosophize
about rhymes while he was pruning his Bonsai
He claimed that he had written the greatest rhyme of all time
but he would never take it out his archives
He wrote 2 songs per day
and was constantly was experimenting with his wordplay
In his youth he did a report on the Sloan Digital Sky survey
he got an F but he deserved an A
I followed his career from the first day
it seemed the lack of support contributed to his inert ways
I seen him put in 24 hour workdays
with deferred pay, undeterred by the word "shame"
Public humiliation was the worst pain
he was spinnin out of control like a class 5 hurricane
He said he wouldn't want another emcee to suffer the same
especially when there's nothing to gain
He was the illest alive but nobody would face it
he spit till his toungue was too torched to taste, it
properly funded corporations carbon-dated his latest creations
to extract the information
They found it utterly amazing
they claimed the body of his work was the same thing as a priceless painting
Never mattered to him, the art galleries hated him
cause Thomas Kinkade called, said he would take 10
Complete enigmas wrapped in puzzles encrypted in language
with sound but without shape or signature
Kept files in his garage, on MS-DOS
in a fire-proof pod, we thought it was odd
Outside there was a shed with an Oppenheimer lock
he apparently kept more wax then Madame Tussaud's
We were in total awe, cause it blew our minds
so many rhymes that were intricately designed
He WAS Poet Laureate of his time
and if you dont mind, I'd like to share some of his rhymes
[*beat switches*]
Alone in my room, looking thru the 32X telescope zoom
adjusting the focus of the moon
One should not assume the philosophy of David Hume
is nothing more then a subjective conclusion
What is the maximum field rate application?
the run away glaciation surrounding the ocean basin
affects the population fluctuation
on a continuous basis but that's just the basics
The juxtaposition of Canibus' position
the precision something no other has written
Way above and beyond what was intended
the unparalleled malleable enunciation of a sentence
You didnt go to college obviously
I can tell by your ungodly unintelligible terminology
A remarkable odyssey, the rhymes of modern speeds
when the brain orders the body not to breathe
Your competency is not up to speed, you not in my league
you couldnt possibly be hotter than me
Or oppositely you're minus 25 degrees, you'd squeeze
but the condensation makes rifle barrels freeze
Allow me to speak figuratively, nigga please
my intellectual properties are about the size of Greece
Your counselor advised you not to speak
my counselor advised me to keep rhymin until they stopped the beat
In the words of Joseph Heller, "I learned how to write better"
even though it sort of irked me
He said he didnt understand the process of the imagination
but he felt he was at its mercy
Which exploits my point perfectly and certainly reinforces
the reason why nobody's probably ever heard of me
Couldnt understand what I mean by ill
unless you try to translate what I print to film
This is the line of will, the circle of time
the cycle of eternity, the emergence of 1 mind
Academic phonetics render critics tounge-tied
Ive personified dry humor of cum-laude alumni
A wise man sees failure as progress
a fool divorces his knowledge and misses the logic
And loses his soul in the process
obsessed with nonsense with a caricature that has no content
My style is masterful, multi-lateral
I could battle a fool and be naturally cruel
Words of scourn are a disasterous tool
from an existentialist view, I'm a better rapper then you
Grab the mic and rip your physical fabric in 2
my attitude is fucked up but admirable
Different methods interpreted into different forms
from entirely different perceptions and seen from different norms
Not just spittin a poem there's much more involved
there's much more pieces of the puzzle for you to solve
48 orders of mechanical laws
and rays of creational cause, enhance the cadence of my bars
Maybe I am self-absorbed
but thats the effect, to find the cause you should ask my A&R
Today is what it is, but only because yesterday was what it was
permitting you heard of Beelzebub
A tale of demons and drugs, pissy drunk in the club
with the DJ doing the needle rub
Chances are you'll never see me son
yeah I know my names Canibus but I cant help you if you need a dub
[*beat switches*]
I came to holla at some big booty bitches
and listen to the speakers thump, where you get conceited from?
Im so nice on the mic, they wanna beat me up
its deep as fuck, I aint seen it all but I've seen enough
Really unbelievable stuff
theres a lot of times where I wanna speak but I'm stuck
I should leave this rap shit alone
and kick my incredible rhymes in the privacy of my own home
My imagination is my own
the liberty to speak to freely, lyrically on the microphone
Wit a pen in my hand, I bring motion to the enneagram
and become "Cani-millenium man"
Engrave my back with the emperor's stamp
been spittin scientific rap since the 17th century began
Tryna' escape the wicked empire of Def Jam
and the land where lyrics are bland and heretics hang
Every warrior has an axe to bury
but he has to learn to discern between enemy and adversary
I said to myself, "Germaine this is insane
its suicide its controlled flight into terrain"
I fought to regain, control of the plain, but went up in a ball of flames
and got banned from the hip hop hall of fame
For 2 bars I kept hearin in my head
over and over again, it cost me everything
[*beat changes back to the original beat*]
Im convinced now that more then truth is at stake
Where people create language that pretends to communicate
Euphemisms are misundertood as mistakes
but its a bi-product of the ghetto music we make
From an extroverted point of view I think its too late
Hip Hop has never been the same since '88
Since it became a lucrative profession there's a misconception
that a movement in any direction is progression
Even though of the potency of it lessens
big money industries writing checks to suppress the question
And nobody gives a fuck no more, no one goes to the book store
ever since the confluence of Moore's Law
But I stay in the lab, like Niels Bohr
and his son Aage, Edward Lorenz and Leo Szilard
Lyrically I took rap music and turned the knob
to the right full throttle and added panache
Why would I argue with my own conscience over the truth?
thats like me telling myself dont tell me what to do
Dialyses and analyses of battle emcees
sometimes I say things I myself can't believe
My lyrical is so skillfully elliptical
I can understand how it makes you miserable
You wonder why I never let you play your beats for me
or why I keep my studio enshrouded in secrecy
You wonder what's my infatuation with Alicia Keys
"Canibus why dont you speak to me?"
Yo, I meant it when I said no one can shine on a song that features me
thats why I said it so vehemently
You need to place the hate with respect
I'm probably the best yet, Poet Laureate!!!
[Sampled outro]
Generally I take.. I go with the given..
ya know with what comes to me .. over the celestial wireless ..
whenever it comes, you're lucky when you get it..
No doubt on this one at all. Canibus is the illest.
[Sampled Intro: same outro from Poet Laureate]
Uhh I dont understand how a writer could ever get writer's block, so called
My problem is having too much.. and being unable to get it down...
[Canibus]
Yo, why is the ripper so ill?
That would be a unpardonable breach of confidence for me to reveal!
He said one day all eyes would be on me
when they look up in the sky and see the neon 'C'
Rhymes inscribed on a nickel disk encased
in glass with an ion beam for longevity
For more then 10 centuries, impressions and memories
the first time-machine inventor will mention me
Canibus was a visionary indeed
he believed light could travel in multiples of c
The organic supercomputer that solved the mysteries
of Klein-Kaluza with 2 blue metric rulers
Liked Cool J, but thought Stephen Jay Gould was cooler
and he never liked to propagate rumors
Smoked Canary Island cigars
liked American luxury cars and beautiful Asian broads
He had a strong mind, he used to philosophize
about rhymes while he was pruning his Bonsai
He claimed that he had written the greatest rhyme of all time
but he would never take it out his archives
He wrote 2 songs per day
and was constantly was experimenting with his wordplay
In his youth he did a report on the Sloan Digital Sky survey
he got an F but he deserved an A
I followed his career from the first day
it seemed the lack of support contributed to his inert ways
I seen him put in 24 hour workdays
with deferred pay, undeterred by the word "shame"
Public humiliation was the worst pain
he was spinnin out of control like a class 5 hurricane
He said he wouldn't want another emcee to suffer the same
especially when there's nothing to gain
He was the illest alive but nobody would face it
he spit till his toungue was too torched to taste, it
properly funded corporations carbon-dated his latest creations
to extract the information
They found it utterly amazing
they claimed the body of his work was the same thing as a priceless painting
Never mattered to him, the art galleries hated him
cause Thomas Kinkade called, said he would take 10
Complete enigmas wrapped in puzzles encrypted in language
with sound but without shape or signature
Kept files in his garage, on MS-DOS
in a fire-proof pod, we thought it was odd
Outside there was a shed with an Oppenheimer lock
he apparently kept more wax then Madame Tussaud's
We were in total awe, cause it blew our minds
so many rhymes that were intricately designed
He WAS Poet Laureate of his time
and if you dont mind, I'd like to share some of his rhymes
[*beat switches*]
Alone in my room, looking thru the 32X telescope zoom
adjusting the focus of the moon
One should not assume the philosophy of David Hume
is nothing more then a subjective conclusion
What is the maximum field rate application?
the run away glaciation surrounding the ocean basin
affects the population fluctuation
on a continuous basis but that's just the basics
The juxtaposition of Canibus' position
the precision something no other has written
Way above and beyond what was intended
the unparalleled malleable enunciation of a sentence
You didnt go to college obviously
I can tell by your ungodly unintelligible terminology
A remarkable odyssey, the rhymes of modern speeds
when the brain orders the body not to breathe
Your competency is not up to speed, you not in my league
you couldnt possibly be hotter than me
Or oppositely you're minus 25 degrees, you'd squeeze
but the condensation makes rifle barrels freeze
Allow me to speak figuratively, nigga please
my intellectual properties are about the size of Greece
Your counselor advised you not to speak
my counselor advised me to keep rhymin until they stopped the beat
In the words of Joseph Heller, "I learned how to write better"
even though it sort of irked me
He said he didnt understand the process of the imagination
but he felt he was at its mercy
Which exploits my point perfectly and certainly reinforces
the reason why nobody's probably ever heard of me
Couldnt understand what I mean by ill
unless you try to translate what I print to film
This is the line of will, the circle of time
the cycle of eternity, the emergence of 1 mind
Academic phonetics render critics tounge-tied
Ive personified dry humor of cum-laude alumni
A wise man sees failure as progress
a fool divorces his knowledge and misses the logic
And loses his soul in the process
obsessed with nonsense with a caricature that has no content
My style is masterful, multi-lateral
I could battle a fool and be naturally cruel
Words of scourn are a disasterous tool
from an existentialist view, I'm a better rapper then you
Grab the mic and rip your physical fabric in 2
my attitude is fucked up but admirable
Different methods interpreted into different forms
from entirely different perceptions and seen from different norms
Not just spittin a poem there's much more involved
there's much more pieces of the puzzle for you to solve
48 orders of mechanical laws
and rays of creational cause, enhance the cadence of my bars
Maybe I am self-absorbed
but thats the effect, to find the cause you should ask my A&R
Today is what it is, but only because yesterday was what it was
permitting you heard of Beelzebub
A tale of demons and drugs, pissy drunk in the club
with the DJ doing the needle rub
Chances are you'll never see me son
yeah I know my names Canibus but I cant help you if you need a dub
[*beat switches*]
I came to holla at some big booty bitches
and listen to the speakers thump, where you get conceited from?
Im so nice on the mic, they wanna beat me up
its deep as fuck, I aint seen it all but I've seen enough
Really unbelievable stuff
theres a lot of times where I wanna speak but I'm stuck
I should leave this rap shit alone
and kick my incredible rhymes in the privacy of my own home
My imagination is my own
the liberty to speak to freely, lyrically on the microphone
Wit a pen in my hand, I bring motion to the enneagram
and become "Cani-millenium man"
Engrave my back with the emperor's stamp
been spittin scientific rap since the 17th century began
Tryna' escape the wicked empire of Def Jam
and the land where lyrics are bland and heretics hang
Every warrior has an axe to bury
but he has to learn to discern between enemy and adversary
I said to myself, "Germaine this is insane
its suicide its controlled flight into terrain"
I fought to regain, control of the plain, but went up in a ball of flames
and got banned from the hip hop hall of fame
For 2 bars I kept hearin in my head
over and over again, it cost me everything
[*beat changes back to the original beat*]
Im convinced now that more then truth is at stake
Where people create language that pretends to communicate
Euphemisms are misundertood as mistakes
but its a bi-product of the ghetto music we make
From an extroverted point of view I think its too late
Hip Hop has never been the same since '88
Since it became a lucrative profession there's a misconception
that a movement in any direction is progression
Even though of the potency of it lessens
big money industries writing checks to suppress the question
And nobody gives a fuck no more, no one goes to the book store
ever since the confluence of Moore's Law
But I stay in the lab, like Niels Bohr
and his son Aage, Edward Lorenz and Leo Szilard
Lyrically I took rap music and turned the knob
to the right full throttle and added panache
Why would I argue with my own conscience over the truth?
thats like me telling myself dont tell me what to do
Dialyses and analyses of battle emcees
sometimes I say things I myself can't believe
My lyrical is so skillfully elliptical
I can understand how it makes you miserable
You wonder why I never let you play your beats for me
or why I keep my studio enshrouded in secrecy
You wonder what's my infatuation with Alicia Keys
"Canibus why dont you speak to me?"
Yo, I meant it when I said no one can shine on a song that features me
thats why I said it so vehemently
You need to place the hate with respect
I'm probably the best yet, Poet Laureate!!!
[Sampled outro]
Generally I take.. I go with the given..
ya know with what comes to me .. over the celestial wireless ..
whenever it comes, you're lucky when you get it..
nickyp
Active member
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