Frenchi Blanco, Canibus - 2 Ils lyrics
[Frenchi Blanco, Canibus - 2 Ils lyrics]
The difference between MCs and rappers
Rapper's clocks count forward
MC's clocks count backwards
I count down as I climb
Up the mountain of sound
I see the ground but I have no use for it now
So I carved my C into the ground
Then free-fall into the clouds
People are proud of this lyrical style
You have no use for a
Crown when you’re spiritually endowed
Permission to walk the property? Not
Allowed to leave the grounds
You are surrounded by darkness
For thousands of miles the Sasquatch
How? all you got is rock salt rounds
The bugle sounds, "Ouch", get up, get out
Three in, three out
Gestapo move house to house
SS fresh Sharp Shooters
It’s a twelve round bout
Anyway that you wanna do it
I know it all sounds foolish
But this is music to Anubis
The keen ears of a jackal
In the jaws of Judas, absolutely ruthless
A mid matured disappointment
No he’s not don’t be stupid
And inconclusive to think he’s only
Abusive to rap music
The hubris of normal humans
Tryna' see through it
Translucent future is magic
Mushroom kit acoustic
You rocking with the two too illest to spit
Respect it if you feel the lyrics
And you feelin' this shit stand beside 'em
Nothing is superior to silence
So much knowledge, the nigga’s so modest
My Hip-Hop forefathers tortured warmongers
No more promise just show homage
The parable about the coal and the
Diamond we heard all that before
So stop it, this is Hip-Hop logic
Sick to the bone
Bis still spitting like a nigga in his zone
Niggas think they spitting with a clone
Captain Cold Crush rhyme with
Frenchie the co-pilot
‘Bout to fly all out of this
If I crash it I’ll salvage it
Five point harness seat belt
How that g-force feel?
Knowledge of self is an admission of guilt
Yes I’m high, but altitude doesn’t apply
Don’t ask why shamanism rhymes
Blind the naked eye
Deliberately exaggerated fine
Alarm clocks chime
I took it all the way to the gold line
Shoot the power in the rhymes
The old head remembers how he used
To be in his prime
He was too ill then, and he’s too ill now
So he don’t want no ground
Just a place to sit down so
The homey can spit now
Yo Frenchi, how it's going down? Show ‘em how
Hold it down, Canibus'll be around
But you the future now
Rapper's clocks count forward
MC's clocks count backwards
I count down as I climb
Up the mountain of sound
I see the ground but I have no use for it now
So I carved my C into the ground
Then free-fall into the clouds
People are proud of this lyrical style
You have no use for a
Crown when you’re spiritually endowed
Permission to walk the property? Not
Allowed to leave the grounds
You are surrounded by darkness
For thousands of miles the Sasquatch
How? all you got is rock salt rounds
The bugle sounds, "Ouch", get up, get out
Three in, three out
Gestapo move house to house
SS fresh Sharp Shooters
It’s a twelve round bout
Anyway that you wanna do it
I know it all sounds foolish
But this is music to Anubis
The keen ears of a jackal
In the jaws of Judas, absolutely ruthless
A mid matured disappointment
No he’s not don’t be stupid
And inconclusive to think he’s only
Abusive to rap music
The hubris of normal humans
Tryna' see through it
Translucent future is magic
Mushroom kit acoustic
You rocking with the two too illest to spit
Respect it if you feel the lyrics
And you feelin' this shit stand beside 'em
Nothing is superior to silence
So much knowledge, the nigga’s so modest
My Hip-Hop forefathers tortured warmongers
No more promise just show homage
The parable about the coal and the
Diamond we heard all that before
So stop it, this is Hip-Hop logic
Sick to the bone
Bis still spitting like a nigga in his zone
Niggas think they spitting with a clone
Captain Cold Crush rhyme with
Frenchie the co-pilot
‘Bout to fly all out of this
If I crash it I’ll salvage it
Five point harness seat belt
How that g-force feel?
Knowledge of self is an admission of guilt
Yes I’m high, but altitude doesn’t apply
Don’t ask why shamanism rhymes
Blind the naked eye
Deliberately exaggerated fine
Alarm clocks chime
I took it all the way to the gold line
Shoot the power in the rhymes
The old head remembers how he used
To be in his prime
He was too ill then, and he’s too ill now
So he don’t want no ground
Just a place to sit down so
The homey can spit now
Yo Frenchi, how it's going down? Show ‘em how
Hold it down, Canibus'll be around
But you the future now