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Westwood Part I with Wyclef

This song is by Canibus.

Yo, 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 looking 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 frontline with rhymes
Revving my engines like they was powered by Le Man's
Murdering niggas with lyrics manufactured within my DNA's double-helix
I'll leave you in troubled spirits
I'm absolutely the purest from the USA to Europe
'Cause I deserve it
Let me pass it to my man Wyclef
W-y-c-l-e-f, yo, there is no contest

Yo, 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
Knocking niggas out and knocking niggas off
For coming around the way with them Lugz that look like clogs
Check the astrophysics of these lyrical lyrics
Come in a digit too big for niggas to count on their 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 received the Fugee jacket from Techsan

See physically I move at a velocity
That'll break your stopwatch if you clocking 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 clocked speeds of a 586
Nothing 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 it snow for the first time
Rhymes of a sort that distort space and time
It's like explaining color to a man that was born blind
One of a kind, I've 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-decks
I get vexed when crab niggas bite my style
'Cause I'm selling a thousand records per day, per square mile
Breaking the laws of physics with metaphors and lyrics
Speaking to dead poets by conjuring up their spirits
From Shakespeare to Edgar Allan
Yo, the whole Dead Poets Society couldn't mess around with the talent
Much less understand it
I make tightrope walkers at the circus lose their balance when I kick the planet

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