Name a more lyrically complex song. Any genre, any artist allowed
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Now, once upon a time not long ago
There was a little rapper about to blow
But his album came, and it was not good
I think it went lead or double copper-wood
So these silly little fans, they were misled
By a nerdy Internet computer hip-hop head
"Me and you, Clef, we're gonna make some cash."
"Grab this silver paint and just paint my ass."
Hey, mister, would you care to bear witness to
The ass-whippin' I'm about to administer
To this ass-kissin' little vaginal blister?
Stanibus, little Marshall Mathers' sister
And in this corner, we have the "Mr
Not-Havin'-It," it's the Mad, sinister
Dr. Evil, with his bag of tricks for
This little antagonistic faggot
Dick-sucking ex-LL Cool J fan from Windsor
I'm 'bout to murder little Kenny-Fag-Kaniff-sta
You bastard, I ain't wanna have to diss ya
Canibus, where the fuck you at? I miss ya!
DO NOT MOT 9-30-19
Now, at first, I ain't really understand this shit
Picture me, for a second, and imagine it
Chillin' in the Bat Mansion relaxin' when
All of a sudden some bullshit comes across the scanners, it's
Canibitch, on some 'Stan Lives' shit
It creeped me out at first; man, this is sick
But me, bein' just as sick, this conflict
Gets my dick harder than arithmetic
And I know how you jealous ones envy
I shoulda knew better from the first few letters you sent me
The first two letters, you were tellin' me shit like
You respect me, like any other regular MC
The third letter, you asked how come I ain't return
None of the messages at Shady Records you left me
The fourth letter: "Slim, you're really startin' to upset me."
The fifth letter told me you were comin' to get me
The sixth letter, there's a bomb threat on our building
This crazy motherfucker's really tryna kill me
So I went back and read the first few letters that said
Some shit about a message you left
Oh shit! That's not a E, that's an A!
This dude wants to leave me a 'massage,' he's gay!
Right away, I'm on the phone with Dr. Dre
"We got a bogey," "Marshall, I'm on the way."
So, in two seconds flat, Dre's at my crib
Only thing is, we both know where this kid lives
And neither one of us have Canadian citizenship
"Shit. Oh, Dre, wait a minute, that's it!
All we gotta do is use a bit of turbo-boost
We can fly over the border!" "Let's Go!" [whoosh]
So we're off to Toronto and we're gainin' speed
"What was that? Oh, Jermaine Dupri."
"Fuck it," keep goin', no time to waste
"Wait, back up. Hit him one more time, in case."
"Okay," fuck, now he's draggin' under the car
"Oh well, only thirty more thousand miles!"
Meanwhile, me and Dre are tryna conversate
Just tryna find a reason for the constant hate
And tryna figure out what happened to 'Germaine Propane'
"He couldn't have fell off that hard." Ain't no way!
What happened to the way you was rappin'
When you was scandalous?
That Canibus turned into a television evangelist!
Plus, he raps with his regular voice
[Four impacts] "What was that?" "Pet Shop Boys."
So, we pull up to the bridge where he last was spotted
His corpse was still movin', but his ass was rotted
And he kinda smelled a little like Courtney Love
I figured if I stick him with a fork, he's done
So I stabbed him twice, kept jabbin'—Christ!
He won't die! This guy's like a battered wife!
He's like Kim: he keeps comin' back for more
But he won't fight back, I cracked his jaw
Hold up! 'Bis, quit foldin' up!
Punch me in the chest, make my shoulders touch
Do something! At least one punchline!
Come on! 'Til the meter reads Nine! Nine! Nine-
Ty nine percent of my fans are blond!
'Bis, come on, answer me, man, respond!
Tell me 'bout the sun, rain, moon and stars!
Intergalactical metaphors from Mars!
Raw to the floor, raw like Reservoir Dogs!
Bite another line from Redman's song!
Suddenly, the stub of a dead man's arm
From a midget reaches out from under the car
It's J.D.! This motherfucker won't die, neither!
Dre starts sprayin' him with cans of ether
We swamped the bitch in it; stomped the bitch again
"Compton!" "Detroit, bitch, talk some shit again!"
"Stomp him!" "Switch feet!" "Stomp him!" "Switch again!"
"Dre, all right, he's dead, dog, quit kickin' him!
I think Stanibus jumped off the bridge again!" ("Ahh!")
"Damn," "He disappeared, yo, he's gone, he did it again!"
Canibitch, oh, Canibitch
Wherefore art thou, Canibitch?
Please tell me what happened with
That style that you were rappin' with
Canibitch, oh, Canibitch
Are you from Los Angeles
New York, or just a janitor
From Canada? Oh, Canibitch
The quality of those lyrics are Lil Pump-tier.
>1000 bars
>says nothing worth remembering
I never liked Canibus much anyway, always came off as a try-hard, which he is.
Easy peazy:
A child is born with no state of mind
Blind to the ways of mankind
God is smilin' on you but he's frownin' too
Because only God knows what you'll go through
You'll grow in the ghetto livin' second-rate
And your eyes will sing a song called deep hate
The places you play and where you stay
Looks like one great big alleyway
You'll admire all the number-book takers
Thugs, pimps and pushers and the big money-makers
Drivin' big cars, spendin' twenties and tens
And you'll wanna grow up to be just like them
Huh, smugglers, scramblers, burglars, gamblers
Pickpocket peddlers, even panhandlers
You say I'm cool, huh, I'm no fool
But then you wind up droppin' outta high school
Now you're unemployed, all non-void
Walkin' round like you're Pretty Boy Floyd
Turned stick-up kid, but look what you done did
Got sent up for a eight-year bid
Now your manhood is took and you're a Maytag
Spend the next two years as a undercover fag
Bein' used and abused to serve like hell
Till one day, you was found hung dead in the cell
It was plain to see that your life was lost
You was cold and your body swung back and forth
But now your eyes sing the sad, sad song
Of how you lived so fast and died so young
SO DON'T PUSH ME CAUSE I'M CLOSE TO THE EDGE
I'M TRYING NOT TO LOSE MY HEAD
you’re all wrong and you’re all gay
m.youtube.com
spiritual lyrical miracle rap xd
>calls us gay
>posts this
projecting?
fuck this websites way too white
mumble rap is better am i rite? eks dee
yes. stay stuck in the 90's boomer
Canibus is probably the example where "spiritual mirical" isn't an exaggeration, it's literally how he rapped.
Ever notice how mumble/soundcloud kids only ever appear in comments like this....but not in any chart threads or actual music discussion threads....interesting...almost like you know you don't belong here, or are comprised entirely of people who are guilty about their shit taste and wouldn't ever admit it when it matters.
the most prominent rap songs in the 90s weren't "lyrical miracle" shit. You must be white and don't know anything about the genre
The cause is Ozymandian.
The map of Sapokanikan
is sanded and bevelled,
the land lone and leveled
by some unrecorded and powerful hand
which plays along the monument
and drums upon a plastic bag.
The "Brave Men and Women So Dear to God
and Famous to All of the Ages" rag.
Sang:
"Do you love me?
Will you remember?"
The snow falls above me.
The renderer renders:
"The event is in the hand of God".
Beneath a patch of grass, her
bones the old Dutch master hid.
While elsewhere Tobias
and the angel disguise
what the scholars surmise was a mother and kid.
Interred with other daughters,
in dirt in other potters' fields
above them, parades
mark the passing of days
through parks where pale colonnades arch in marble and steel,
where all of the twenty-thousand attending your foot fall
and the cause that they died for are lost in the idling bird calls,
and the records they left are cryptic at best,
lost in obsolescence.
The text will not yield, nor x-ray reveal
with any fluorescence
where the hand of the master begins and ends.
I fell, I tried to do well but I won't be.
Will you tell the one that I love to remember and hold me?
I call and call for the doctor
but the snow swallows me whole with ol' Florry Walker
and the event lives only in print.
He said:
"It's alright,"
and "It's all over now,"
and boarded the plane,
his belt unfastened;
the boy was known to show unusual daring.
And, called a “boy”,
this alderman, confounding Tammany Hall,
In whose employ King Tamanend himself preceded John’s fall.
So we all raise a standard
to which the wise and honest soul may repair,
to which a hunter,
a hundred years from now, may look and despair
and see with wonder
the tributes we have left to rust in the parks,
swearing that our hair stood on end
to see John Purroy Mitchel depart
for the Western front where our work might count.
All exeunt, all go out,
await the hunter to decipher the stone,
and what lies under. Now the city is gone.
Look and despair.
There OP, I did it.
white bois mad they cant listen to mumble rap haha
I respected him but never bumped him. I think the voice sounded too wanna be edgy. I didnt like his flow too much, but if you read his lyrics they are pretty good. I enjoyed watching diz destroy him, though.
here it him trying to compete with a real battle rapper. and canibus does something you should never do in a battle rap. forget his lyrics and pull out his notepad, lol.
the whole thing is pretty legendary, and takes a while to get going - but when it does its very good. canibus gets destroyed. also helps if you know the history about canibus, ll coolj, eminem. diz throws lots of personals.
fast forward to youtube.com
I kind of feel bad.
Canibus looks cool, not gonna lie
I was just fast forwarding around - Wow, that last round from diz. ouch.
youtube.com
The chad LL, the virgin Canibus
anything by bob dylan
yes, even the one where he says the sun isn't yellow, it's chicken
LL's Canibus diss is so far above Em's Canibus diss it's not even
Not really, but it depends on how you look at it. LL's diss was a haymaker to the face of someone he felt insulted by, Eminem's was a sly clowning of someone he felt above.
he sounds less edgier nowadays
youtube.com
hey canibitch!
Canibus's vocabulary is insane
big vocab doesnt mean its good
Lyrics aren't even part of music you fucking retard
youtube.com
history of the white man in rap form
This cabinus reminds of the very lyrical french rappers of that time.
WE
Can-I-Bus [Universal, 1998]
So what exactly is supposed to be wrong here? His bragging, tsk-tsk? His retrograde reliance on "bitch" and such? His fealty to the Betrayer of Lauryn Hill? His voice, all gritty and ugly and clear and New York? His "flow," Lord help us? He doesn't flow, he overflows, spouting extra verbiage when any normal logorrheic would shut the eff up, and that form-fucking illusion of distended stanza is his flow. Unfettered after the manner of Kool Moe Dee, uncanny after the manner of Fox Mulder, and uproarious either way, he makes sure his gangsta tropes stay that way because he believes language supercedes reality. And all this I pinned down after being sucked in by the chamber orchestra, Hawaiian guitar, mixed-down Wagner, Claudine Longet parody, Wonder Mike parody, and Roxanne Shanté sample. You'll gasp. You'll chortle. You'll wonder what exactly is supposed to be wrong here. A
C of Tranquility [iM, 2010]
He talks too much about how good he is only because nobody else will--and he is, damn it, he is ("Pine Comb Poem," "Golden Terra of Rap") ***
youtube.com
This is BEYOND lyrical.
Canibus has always had killer production and technique/flow, it's too bad his actual music is garbage.
Niggers suck