Canibus

Canibus - Shout Out to Lost Boyz lyrics

[DJ Clue]

Yeah, DJ Clue, Desert Storm, all up in ya area

with the LB Fam, Love Peace and Nappiness

A little sample, but first..

My man Canibus, gon' rip shit down, ha ha

[Canibus]

Yo, yo, YO

Lost Boyz the Beasts from the East up in this piece

with a new release on the streets every fifty-two weeks

and I dare a nigga to challenge us; I turn the

Love Peace and Nappiness into your blood on a napkin in the ambulance

Fuckin with the nigga called Canibus, just the sound

of my voice'll give you a positive urine analysis

I'm a lyrical demon, stronger than crack fiends

that smoke two P's with a C in between em

LB Fam, makin the music niggaz dance to

And we sip a very substantial amount of Jack Daniels

L-O-est, B-O-Y-Z we lock shit

We invested all of Legal Drug Money profit

Showin love to each and every nigga that copped it

In they Jeep, Lex Coupe, Beema or Benz knockin it

Music Makin You High, givin you that urge

to spend two-thirds of the money you earned on herb

You're fuckin with the LB Fam, we do what we gotta do

You never get the chance to shoot back at who shot at you

Nigga, you'll be dead before you reach the hospital

Lookin at you layin there with blood comin out your nostrils

Queens most wanted, quick to clap a nigga

Rap at killers who wear Carharts and Caterpillers

Totin the four-pound, holdin the fort down

before Heavy D bounced to Uptown became a ghost town

Cheeks, Lou and Thai see eye to eye

Spig sees eye to thigh, bein the shortest

but he still gets busy on the one and two's regardless

Heard about the Clue tape, so I had to get on it

Lost Boyz and Desert Storm, Show Us the Money

cause we STILL hungry, we STILL got the growl in the tummy

We STILL grimy and grungy, dressin bummy

Doin shows for foreign currencies in other countries

Tryin to finance me a Hum-Vee with low mufflage

Get a production deal, start our own record companies

Sign our own acts, and rhyme about whatever we wanna rap

Decorate our walls with plaques

Summertime eighty-nine or better degree weather

Nine-seven DJ Clue and LB Fam forever

[DJ Clue]

WHAT?! DJ Clue, all up in ya area

[Canibus]

Yo yo yo hold up I don't think niggaz know man

I'm gonna rock some more, check it out, yo, yo

Now just by watchin you, I can tell that I got you

to face me, somethin you don't wanna do, my rhymes

are too hostile, they'll beat you down in public like the cops do

Sit on top of you, make a human pinata out of you

Flow as potent as possible, creatin obstacles Three Feet

High and Rising, like the chronicles of Posdonus

The old school hip-hop, is where I get my style from

Uptown Harlem, is where I get my lye from

My cousin with mad guns, is where I get the nines from

Area 51 is where I be gettin rhymes from

I'm not a human being

I'm the human being ill with a I.Q. that's off the scale

If words could kill, a verse of mine'll murder a mil'

And MC'sll be gnashin they teeth, burnin in hell

I'm learnin to be the head instead of the tail

I ain't followin nobody else to increase my sales

Metaphors are real, like they been forged in steel

Stood before the judge told him I was forced to kill

And how I went for mines to get Paid in Full

Then I went for minds again and ripped em out of niggaz skulls

The nigga on the block with the biggest balls, layin niggaz

on the floor, robbin em too a Biggie Smalls song

"Turn your head round," give me the cheddar

I'd rather be a lion for a day than a lamb who lives forever

"Turn your head round," give me the cheddar

I'd rather be a lion for a day than a lamb who lives forever *echoes*

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