100 Bar Beast - Canibus

Javelins hawk within striking distance

Alert to the sounds we hear, the rapid response verses in the air

I smell the tobacco, we know that you’re here

So does the white tail buck and the black bears

What the fuck gave you the right?

To come into the wilderness just to pick a fight?

Whatever jurisdiction you from we rip mics

The B-line of blood trail in the dim light

Back to the kill site

Come here city boy, I hear you’re real nice

Surrounded by dark so far from the city lights

Stop browsing, sniff downwind cowards

You pissed yourself, you smell more foul than public housing

Hardcore, parkour, tear off your car doors

Fire-breathing gargoyles, eating hyenas, charbroiled

Alien tongues long sharp but called predator claws

I rip through the Kevlar for your heart

'Till your lower body support lost

The large carnivore Spitboss Beowulf rip your torsos off

Float like the flying Albatross, part Mothman part wasp

Ambush armour transport to the marsh

Javelin Fangz, Germaine’s bombing raid campaign

My hands change when I drink Beowulf bane

You ain’t seen nothing nearly as strange

Blurry as alien planes, still in the frame but nearly out of range

Canines, Sons of Cain, impervious to pain

Numb off cocaine, ripping railroad tracks off trains

Deranged batshit insane, rhymes liquefy brains

Daydreaming of rain, smoke haze and stargaze

AKs spray photon rage, Sharpshooter sharp fangs

Heart pumpin' napalm through coarse veins

Speak to barmaids, breath reeks of Grand Marnier

She says, «come on behave», I remove my dark shades

Eyes buried behind wrinkles like Shar Peis

I got a scarface from back in my dog days

The posttraumatic microphone mechanic

Leave the habitat damaged when I rat-a-tat that ratchet

You fucking with the Sharpshooter Masters

When the missile is aimed to blow you out of the frame

Some will still remember it was done by Germaine

In the beginning I made lyrics, now lyrics make me

You’re listening to Rip The Jacker II: Infinity

This rhyme can outlive your whole lifetime

Be waiting for you on the other side when you arrive

Surround you with a layer to the left, to the right

To the front to the back, with a rap and a mic

For satellite rappers delight, you battle for your life

You battle from sunrise to off white moonlight

The cedar wood burns, my heating is rightfully earned

I take you on a journey through the words

In the mind, hold your hand with an infinite rhyme

For a time I know it makes you shy, but that’s fine

Come along with me, let me show you how hard it can be

To spit like the 100 Bar Beast

An extra large dosage of the dopeness

How can I be anything but focused as the spitbar soldier

The rhyme equity above quota

Sometimes I go over with more bars than the beat goes for

Walk around confused, listening to tunes

Music is my muse, Can-I-Bus this abuse?

Put blades to your bones like the Autobiography of Kirk Jones

Nah, I just work for him

I will be redeemed for the destruction of the Hip Hop regime

For how it was remembered and seen

Mission requires a plan, armed personnel and staff

But tradition demands I be a more primitive man

Three standard 16s;

fade the record at 3:35

Grim reaper axe, kick to your spine

Pound after pound, I come stomp on your brain

Spit fire like I drink hot sauce from a drain

When the missile is aimed to blow you out of the frame

Some will still remember it was done by Germaine

When the missile is aimed to blow you out of the frame

That’s when you know your times up Germaine

Don’t forget you nice, you fit the right archetype

Beating niggas to death and beating dead niggas to life