[Verse 1] Aiyo I stand outside the gates of Buckingham Palace Selling reefer, puffin the chalice with the Beefeaters Getting so high that whenever I drop shit It'll land on the window of your airplane cockpit Canibus with the hot shit, \"Crazy I. Click\" Niggas is bloody idiots thinking that they can stop this I'll increase my strength, to a super human extent Nigga your rhyme ain't worth sixpence And if you can hear, smell, see, touch, and taste Then you don't need six senses to feel me punch you in the face From Brixton, to Clapham Common, my lyrics invade Europe Like Joseph Stalin, and murder niggas for rhyming Spitting fire, with gasoline for saliva As drunk as Lady Diana's driver with reporters behind her Alcohol in the hands of a minor I got you panicking like bombs, with 30 second timers Clear the building, evacuate women and children Fuck what you feeling nigga, I came here to kill em Straight shitting, from New York to Great Britain And when we do shows we make the Queen pay admission, what!
Chorus: Canibus (and crowd)
When I say \"Can-I\" you say \"Bus\" Can-I (BUS!) Can-I (BUS!) Yo, when I say \"Can-I\" you say \"Bus\" Can-I (BUS!) Can-I (BUS!)
[Verse 2] Yo.. yo.. Yo prepare for the worst This next verse is the face of death Me without lyrics is like a porn flick without sex Illmatic, my lyrical skills are Jurassic With more flavor then Skittles when I'm digitally mastered I go off like a cannon and blow up the planet With \"No Fear,\" like them clothes white boys be wearing I'm tougher than denim, lethal like venomous snake bites The marijuana makes my eyes bright red like brake lights There ain't a party I couldn't rock, believe that There ain't a microphone brave enough to give me feedback I'm strong, my word is Bond like James Niggas be trying to test, but they 'week' like seven days MC's run away when I kick it; they act so chicken They should come with a large drink and a biscuit My style's radioactive, massive atomic I plan to push the Earth in front of Halley's Comet Breaking the +Facts of Life+ down like Tootie, I'm raw like sushi With more vocab than three fucking Fugees So recognize or be hospitalized Cause lyrically on a scale of one to ten I'm twenty-five
Chorus
[Verse 3] Yo, yo, a little bit of weed and some Hennessy Got me ready to set it with kinetic energy See I need much more energy then my enemies If I wanna make more Bill's then Bellamy So I could be on MTV With women constantly telling me I resemble Billy Dee I make fly rhymes to get my name on the scene Then when I'm on the scene I do shows to get the green Then I take the green, buy a automobile machine For that thing on page 43, in Jet Magazine Canibus is the ultimate executioner's dream Swinging the guillotine, cause whenever the head is severed From the human body with a sharp enough weapon The brain remains conscious for ten seconds Long enough for me to give you one last message And when you get to Hell you can tell Lucifer I said it Don't ever get it confused, fucking with Canibus The human Rubix Cube like you got something to prove Yo, whoever grabs the mic after me will get booed Get everything in the club thrown at you and your crew From Moet bottles to bar stools, fruits and foods You got a album out, you get hit with your CD too Running outside, crying, lying, denying That you ain't The Gay Rapper, but you got fucked by him What's the difference? Y'all niggas still ain't in lyrical fitness Too busy mixing your business with your bitches While I be in the lab composing forbidden scriptures So wicked I got, Satan ejaculating on his fingers Like Dirk Diggler, in the middle of +Boogie Nights+ Sniffing white