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The Backlash

This song is by Tom Jeefs, features Canibus and Mark Deez and appears on the album The Backlash (2013).

(Tom Jeefs)
Yo, rhyming with the Legends on a track is mostly hard to catch
Architects of Rap take it back to upper parking decks
This the Concordat, religion of rap's consulate
I recover lyrics in stone where once Romans conquered at
I teach to damage it, Tom Jeefs and Canibus
Mark Deez can handle this, MC's are fans of this
The theory of relativity tells me that I would have to move at c
To see the time when you could spit with me
Or be close to a black hole
Radio listening makes your brain regress to that of a tadpole
They want control and put Hiphop on the lock
You can't even know the truth if you use what you got
Anarchy's last chance when The Backlash hits the block
They gon clash with the media like clashing with a rock
In a monopolized world where individuals are jeopardized
Amongst clones is where our rhymes are exercised
Heads of our Times are spittin' Furious rhymes
Old empirical Designs are inferior to mines
You're composition theory is easily disputable
'Cause 90 percent of rappers have proven to be delusional
So sniff that shit up and spit it in a bucket
There are three MC's on just one track that you can't fuck with,
This is beyond of what the average listeners perceive
Mark Deez interrogates speech before you even leave
I snipe you without a scope as far as I can see
Rip the Jacker cut you in half and dump you in the sea!
We don't sleep we practice melatonin magik
Heavy gravity rhymes singularize the room fabric

Most intellectual lovers are dumb motherfuckers
I trade the wife's minivan for a pre runner
No matter what happens we gon see it this summer
Your mailman's bout to be a G.I. Joe gunner
What's your skill set? We pay the bills with threats
I don't care what kind of deals you get
Meal ration sealed in plastic, raise up the deal like Lazarus,
Contaminated chemical canisters
In a vacuum the smoke billows but doesn't move
The world as we know it must crash to improve
You speak with such verisimilitude, yeah that's my dude
One day soon the facts will prove
They say copyright infringement is a terrorist act
You sample the wrong shit they send a drone attack
All these wicked sons of bitches
Poison lips Kissenger kisses
Another crusade coming for Christians
Freaking miserable existence in this digital prison
My prediction no protection program for the witness
Solar power panel for my clippers, still trimming my whiskers
The cleanest caveman you ever seen nigga,
Asteroid tsunamis, earthquakes swallow your body
Too late to evacuate, copy!
People like you like to hear yourself talk
Ra Ra Sis Boo Ba with no thought
Raise your hand if you soul has been bought
Garbage bag toilet bowl designed with Feline Pine
Absorbs the moisture that is left behind
CPR pumpin trying to keep his heart running
I saved his life even though I hate that motherfucker
The ripper is here and I ain't got a nickel to spare
I move slicker than duck shit on a river pair
The tree of life is a MC with a mic
Can-I-Bus and Mark Deez on sight

(Mark Deez)
What you thought it was over?
We just got older, a little bit bolder
The smoke still smolders
The ash and the rubble, I'm back just to hustle
You lackin the struggle, get slapped on the double
Canibus said to move at my own pace
These rhymes are ancient once etched on a stone face
No grace is given to the insolent
You think that you innocent, well what you got to benefit?
I intersect your intellect and disconnect your fickle threat
You little shit you ain't fuckin' with Rip!
Your asthma actin' up from the dust that I kick
I'm bustin' your lip, a revolver with the rustiest grip
Can you stare at the sun? NO, it's just too bright
You can't see a thing when you blinded by the light
So I'm creeping through the darkness of my imagination
My construct was such a manifestation
You must rejoice the Oracle meets Infinity
It must be what God felt when he became the trinity
I been emcee since the day I could breathe
Been at it ever since never taking reprieve
I got what you need, I'ma give it to you
Mark Deez, Canibus, Jeefs, spitting the truth
I lay my hands on your head you can see what I envision
It's like nuclear fission of circadian rhythm, Deez!

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