The Goetia
[Intro: sample]
Necronomicon
And there is variation in the analogy of where these things have come from
They were created by these giants
They were created by watcher themselves
They can manifest…
[Hook: Canibus]
‘Nothing to Prove’, ‘Nothing to Lose’
Can-I-Bus busting in the booth
Straight out the Goetia to eat you
This is the fire breather
’Nothing to Prove’, ‘Nothing to Lose’
Can-I-Bus and Mic Club busting in the booth
[Canibus]
Microphone check one-two, you know what it is//
Can-I-Bus, still getting biz//
With mics, gas molecules emit light//
I bring delta T.C. squared to the fistfight//
First I developed offence/
Then negotiate disarmament from the other side of the fence//
Hence, the tetrahedron is a prison for a four headed demon//
I weaken, every time I see him//
Fight for my freedom, under the fig tree bleeding//
I create Hip Hop but don't need it//
I turn my back on rap like God turned his back on Eden//
To return like Cat Stevens//
For those who believe it, I live it, I breathe it//
I smash mics to pieces, that's the secret//
I cannot fail, I rock bells//
On the Ho Chi Minh trail to the song of the nightingale//
Any artist, can turn a garden into a desert//
But can he turn a desert into a garden?//
That's where I come in, running, straight gunning//
Ready to punish, nigga I don't budge one inch//
Fuck it, double the budget//
Niggas turned Hip Hop to something it wasn't//
Made it hard to love it//
So I come back to conquer with a monster mantra//
My spiritual father is Swami Vivekananda//
Rhymes promote freedom, stabilize the region//
Think for yourselves, it's just like breathing//
The departed Hip Hop artist regarding the condition of the carnage//
Dead farmers I already saw it//
Back to the army, back to Pathari, Tari//
Back to the heartbeat, offbeat on a dark street//
Comfy aggressive assistive training//
Haji somewhere waiting, one minute remaining//
Satellites counter locating, the bloodbath begins bathing//
We both believe we're fighting Satan//
But we both got the same god, who accepts the same sacrifice//
Blood, tears, life//
Fine picks and trowels are real I was holding a weapon//
When I was overpowered, there was no album//
Thirty minute sessions cleaning weapons, asking myself questions//
About what happened last mission//
Radiation isolation, I'm an asshole but I'm patient for a nurse with nice shaped tits//
I'm a poet, my house is a palace//
A small cavernous passage darker than the Catacombs of Paris//
Chateau de Canibus, Saint Germaine sadomasochist//
I don't use chains to trap a bitch//
Don't get distracted, repeat your rap schematic//
Over and over until it's automatic//
My body is a machine, machines need fuel//
Two gastro-nasal tubes feed me smoothie food//
The recluse clearly produced//
the abstract schematic you can use over a freshly squeezed glass of pear juice//
Right side paralyzed above the waist//
Below the waist the left side paralyzed, this a unique case//
It's a challenge to rhyme great, lost weight//
Lost sense of smell and taste, wasting away paying attention to space//
Saying "wait!" open the gate, rusty screwers reverberate//
Through the deserted desolate space of this purgative place//
Grimoires of metaphor law make your skin crawl//
’Nothing to Prove’, this is lyrical law//
