Canibus, Wyclef - Tim Westwood Freestyle lyrics

Yo, yo, yo i look directly into human eyes
To see if you pussy
And completely ruin your ability to lie to me
Now you can stand in front
Of me lookin' real silly
Or prepare to go to battle
And kick a rhyme to me
I pull a nine on a bully
Cock back the cannon god damn it
I don't think you fully understand it
Ask nine out of ten people on the planet
Who the best is
The question will go unanswered
Till I step up, to the front line with rhymes
Revin' my engines like they was
Powered by Le Mans
Murderin' niggas with lyrics manufactured
Within my DNA's double helix
I'll leave you in troubled spirit's
I'm absolutely the purest, from the USA
To Europe, because I deserve it
Let me pass it to my man Wyclef
W-Y-C-L-E-F, yo, there's no contest

Yo, the W-Y-C-L-E-F, Wyclef
There's no contest, about to put 'em to rest
The primary purpose to this
Text is to present
Techniques, and guided 'um a practice
To cause boxers to um, forfeit
MC's who's focused, Wyclef too accomplished
AAH, I'm throwin' clones in the Hell pit
Vocabulary comprehension study
Readin' in critical analyzin'
Techniques to enable DJs
To interact with my material
Westwood, play it on your turntable
Scratch it if your able
Characteristics, circumstances
Will determine how long you live mr actress
I aqua-snatch gats from kids with pack back
Who lack raps, and rap to get quick dap

Yo, yo, yo
My lyrical inertia rips holes through
The fabric of universes
With rhymes three times the density
Of what the Earth is
I carry lyrics for niggas who carry burners
You against me is like a
Lighter against a furnace
Knockin' niggas out, and knockin' niggas off
For comin' around the way with them
Lugs that look like clocks
Check the astrophysics of
These lyrical lyrics
Comin' to digit's too big for niggas
To count on they fingers
Check the hype shit, blow up a mic shit
You might get beat the fuck up in broad
Daylight with a nightstick
Mentally advanced
Ever since the brain transplant
Canibus recieved the Fugee's jacket from

Yo, yo, now check it out
1, 2 for your brain, here we go, yo, yo
One take, I make the Earth quake
Let the hater's debate
I walk away with the sweepstake
I won the lotto, check out the lingo
Me, and my micro, more chips then bingo
You still S-O-S-O, your crew got no ammo
I'm not a communist
But I get guns from Castro
Whether in trio, a rockin' solo
Give up my chain 'cause you
Thought I was dolo
Uh oh, uh oh, yo he about to be zero
Send him back to real underground like
Play that kid out like Michael's brother Tito
Then lay low
In London with the ladies speakin' 'Spanol
So banner who on my scanner
My grammar slammer any crew who choose to do

See, physically i move at a velocity
That'll break your stopwatch if
Your clockin' me
My concrete jungle is like Jumanji
But iller than what you seen in the cinema
A five-foot-eight nigga with more
Horsepower than twelve cylinders
My brain consists of twin Pentium chips
That's double the clock speeds
Of a five-eighty-six
Nothin' about my physical matrix is basic
I kick flavor beyond what your
Tongue is capable of tasting
You'll be so surprised
You won't believe your own eyes
It's like a Jamaican seeing the
Snow for the first time
Rhymes of a sort to distort space, and time
It's like
Explaining color to a man who was born blind
One of a kind, I got divine chromosomes in me
My sperm will scramble the eggs
In a woman's ovaries
Cause, I'm as original as it gets
And I can't respect cats
That copy like double-Dex
I get vexed when crab niggas bite my style
Cause, I'm sellin' a thousand
Records per day, per square mile
Breakin' the laws of physics with metaphors
And lyrics speaking to dead poets by
Conjuring up they spirit's
From Shakespear to Edgar Allen
Yo, the whole Dead Poet Society couldn't
Mess around with the talent
Much less understand it
I make tightrope walkers at the circus lose
They balance when I kick the planet

Yo, yo, yo
Pick up the pencil, raps must be crucial
Thoughts go blank, yo
'cause you couldn't bank
The eight ball back to the corner
Back to the corner pocket, mock it, jock it
But like Jimi Hendrix you couldn't hear it
No hard feelin', villain
This ain't your everyday rapper
The name Wyclef, I'm about to get dapper
When I whistle, uh, two dogs by my side
Plus a black pistol, uh, loud MC's SH!
Feel the silence, so you still talkin'
You cuckoo i send psycho's to you, AAAAH!
I'll have you scream too real live cinema
The streets produce the junkies
Pull back on your shirt
You're lookin' like ET
You're cracked out, fo' do'
Some blow on saxophone we rhymin' off-beat
Even with help from your metronome
You not an MC, see you a CM
Common Motherfucka rhymin' 'bout lexuses
And benz same benz you got jacked in
(Yo, change the beat nigga)
Change the beat, change the beat
Change the track (yeah, change it to, "We no
Soldiers, we don't die
There's no lie in the NA-NA-NA)

The secret of the ages
I illuminate with logic
What I speak, it's more than just deep
It's bottomless with common sense
I'm organized like crimes in mafias
Plus the way I rhyme is Prime like Optimus
A rapologist, you could sit
And do the knowledge with
GEDs to degrees from Ivy League colleges
I politic with any magazine colonist
About topics other MCs won't even bother with
Rock solid shit like stones, and monuments
It's obvious the third eye
And the obelisk is watchin' us
Closely, through a microscope
And a pair of binoculars
Ghetto scholars like me who
Study street calculus
I utilize every letter of the Arabic alphabet
To touch a part of your body
Then let you feel erogenous

Yo, you wanna battle Wyclef, here's the dream
Hold my hands, and pray, at the
You don't got knowledge yourself
So you don't know what that means
Keep your lights, keep your Westwood
Give me the action
The battlezone, where I roam in composition
Hardcore in London, with if I break like
Your first time in jail where you
Got fucked by an inmate it'll never happen
I'm more balanced like a Libra
And if I get murdered, don't cry for me
Argentina pour me a cup of vodka
Bury me next to my father
Three days I rise like Christ
And still sober now my eyes open
In my hands I got the gatling
I'm looking for the guy that sent
Me to say "Hi!" to Satan fists of fury
You wouldn't like me when I'm angry
I turn Mr roger's Neighborhood topsy turvy
Frozen enemies in the dictionary
This ain't pictionary
All you see is the cemetary
Bodies from WWI, and I I was there
You don't want a third war
There's nuclear warfare
Canibus count the stash, making fast
Illegal money
Turns legal, you're running a laundry mat
You're hunchbacked
And wack raps you pack in your backpack
You're better off in DC with
The mayor smoking crack
This ain't a diss, ha, Wyclef bomb threat
Run out of the building or get blast in your
Tec for tec, or we can go text for texture
Oh, I forgot, you don't read, BLAOW
Take this hole in your chest
Hide the gun yo, it's a homicide
When the DT shows up
They thought it was a suicide
Suicide, it's a suicide
Canibus grab the mic
And represent with your third eye

I drink a gallon of the ginseng extract
Harness all my lyrical power to rip tracks
I shed light upon pitch black, so at times
Even your third eye finds my rhymes
Too bright to glimpse at
I think back to before I was born
When suckas wasn't even involved
In this art form
Now they write rhymes to reflect
Nothing but hard times
While I be on America online
Electronically mailing my thoughts across
The information highway
Trying to communicate wit' y'all way
Discovering shit, to make a nigga bug
I speak a language that don't
Even require the tongue
Raps carry the impact, of a sawed-off
Get in my face
And your liable to get yours blown off
I'ma show off
Everyone up North knows I'm the best
LL couldn't bring it to me if
He had my home address much less defeat me
You must be taking steroids
And not eating your wheaties
And smoking crack instead of beadies
Step into the ring, i put you through pain
You've never been through
Torture will force you to tap out so
I don't have to pin you
You see my style will get
In you like an injection
Lyrical ooze causin' rap crews
To become X-Men infecting MCs with a disease
There's no cure for
No man can withstand a Canibus metaphor
I freak a rhyme 'til your
Sampler stops counting bars
And delegate laws as if I'm God
So call me arrogant if you want to
But the Canibus creates cyphers niggas
Can bring a lighter, and a blunt to
Uncle Sam wants you, but he don't want me
Because lyrically I'm too advanced
For you average MCs my field of forces
Bigger than twenty golf courses
Eerie like government theories
Behind flying saucers i go on, and on
And on for hours until batteries die
Then I switch to auxiliary power
It's no soldiers, there's no lie
We don't die in the NA-NA-NA