Spit A Verse

[Verse 1: Webb]
I'm money-hungry for six or seven digit salaries
Plus I split crews in two like multiple personalities
I drop verses in chronological order and get ill with the flow like a physcotic mental disorder
I bring it to you raw like I did time out-of-state
With more rhymes than inner cities district attorneys got court dates
I'll question your character witness and rip him to pieces verbally
And after the trial, I guarantee [?] want to murder me
No need to discuss it, if your head gets thrown, I'll bus it
Like Russell with his management gone, I'll proceed to rush it
Bus it, flush it down the drain and out the picture
I prophesize and write my rhymes in scrolls like pyroscriptures
With one incision I'll cut your crew in 3 sections
That's why niggas be on a dick like they got [?] connections
There's two sides to every story, so don't be fooled by the cover
I'm wrecking the mic with the rhymes and deliver flows like your mother
And I'll be spiritual with the lyrical material like a Christian
Treat rhyming is a sport and I could fuck out of competition
Fuck around, God, and get that ass slammed like a sumo
I'm coming for your dome with a twenty-four karat microphone
Act up, then all of the sudden you might become accident prone
Come out the wood work, flip and go berserk
I hijack the enterprise and leave the galaxy with Captain Kirk
'Cause I deliver through snowstorms and blizzards
I slither like one of the Five Deadly Venoms called Lizard
So who wants to bring it to my neighborhood?
Don't sleep--I'll have my girl run your nigga for his goods

Come on, God
Hit them niggas [?]
Come on, God
Hit them niggas [?]

[Verse 2: Canibus]
Yo check the taekwondo style of rhymin'
My IQ number has six zeros behind it
I utilize mental suggestion to hypnotize
'Cause I'll rape your girl and blame it on K-Solo's rhyme
See, I'm the mastermind behind the scene getting the green
No one could ever rehabilitate this microphone fiend
'cause everybody's talkin' about how I spark it
And how I got more butter products than a supermarket
For me to kiss your ass would be a painful thing
Because nine out of 10 black men wear Timb's
And my thoughts are so way beyond your understandin'
I make niggas with guns nervous even when I'm empty handed
Because my mind is psychically inclined to cope
Can't pull off complete control without remotes
And it's obvious you niggas could see me with binoculars
So when I gets the freestyle fever, I break thermometers
I was around town strapped down like Smith & Wesson
Ready to smoke a motherfucker like Benson & Hedges
I'm thick like eggnog, drinking Red Dog
And busting mad shots like soldiers in Lebanon
I walk the streets and start beef with dangerous peeps
I'm sending niggas back to their makers without receipts
Bitches get mad 'cause I'm conceited like a tick
I just wish niggas would get the hell off my dick

Come on, God
Hit them niggas [?]
Come on, God
Hit them niggas [?]

[Verse 3: unspecified feature]
Woo!Some niggas get hit with a criticals, I'm like a physical miracle
You want to bug it, cool, I'll get critical
Break it down like food in your stomach
I murder, I heard some shit that makes you want to murder
Fuck you, you noodle, I'm scaring like voodoo
Bust nuts in your [?] rub that shit like shampoo
Who? The coo-coo for Cocoa Puff, enough of your stuff
Huff and puff, but I'll still call your bluff
Filthy bitches get me vexed, I piss on their chest
Jet, I let off steam like David Banner upset?
Hey you over there, obey your thirst
Here's a forty fucking Sprite, I'm out of sight
Keeper game tight [?] in height
But awkward, like a [?] shot from [?]
One two, back it up, one two
Now I belong in a zoo, I'm an animal, a mammal
No light, there is darkness, niggas these days in heartless
So watch your back in the street when they spark it

[if someone else wants to finish transcribing this, use the timestamp 48:16 for this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5jNVEaKY2CQ to pick up where this ends]