"About That Time" lyrics - TERMANOLOGY

[Introduction: Canibus]
It's about that time, you know me, I'm about that rhyme
Canibus and Termanology, two of hip hop's top Gs
Watch, B

[Verse 1: Canibus]
Canibus lyrically fit, Termanology spit
A million bars, first 16 start like this
A rack of bombs lay stacked on the floor above the doors of the bomb bay
I can drop bombs all day
Any city all states, any place, any muzzles, they all ate
My metaphors break jaws out of place
30 shots change courses, lock, reload
What up PO? I throw bullets the size of burritos
Prototype speedboats built by Lockheed on the East Coast
Drag you by the feet with 30 feet of rope
Gotta pay dues dude, put you on YouTube
One million views of that moment you lose
Against the freckle-faced Elephant Man with cold, clammy, gelatin hands
Research and develop the plan
Because now everybody hollering
Hip Hop ain't bringing the dollars in, radio ain't got no more tolerance
Objection sustained, y'all niggas can't fuck with Germaine
You can't verify the shit that he claim
Just a man in the matrix, I stand by my statements
Every time I run a program they erase it!
The plot unfolds, you hear the army snare drum roll
The beat tolls 'cause you know I've got soul (Yo!)
I rap alone strap a microphone 'round my chest like a saxophone
Fully automated battle phones
Canibus and Termanology, white hot speech
Black box beats, you listening to Hip Hop's chief
Termanology, what's the prophecy
Show them how you got the right to rock with me, boy you better fry that beat

[Verse 2: Terminology]
Yo, we the last of a dying breed
The ones that got your hearts racing like a can of speed
The ones that bodied anybody that was on the scene
The one's that never sold out like Condoleez' on their own peeps
The big knife packing, windpipe slashing
Big pipe blasting, key mine stash in my designer jeans
The truth is this for you stupid pricks
Never estimate my ruthlessness or celebrate a crucifix
Every rhyme you write is like you moving bricks
I sold weight too but I ain't on that stupid shit
I write intelligent, relevant, elegant, heaven sent rhetoric
These rap dudes ain't even competitive
Should I let 'em live, nah fuck that
Yo, Bus I've been looking for someone I can bust at
Dude trust that, ain't another rapper alive that can touch that
After I crush that
Fuck all the simple shit, I got this shit locked like Middleton
Plus I keep swinging like Wimbledon
You fake motherfuckers is weak and ignorant
I speak deliberately at you before the RugerR clap you
Let the bullets catch you, why would I shake your hand
We got beef like Red Sox and Yankee fans
Before I shave your man and cut back his face
I levitate my soul up to the pearly gates
Ask God if I'm really getting in 'fore I kill again
Should I just pray for my sins
No convertible, no face in the wind
Just some basements of gin and some goons that will murder you
You wanna act macho, I got a Glock so big
It will blow your wig out your tie ho
You lost souls only worry about [?]
You get your fucking face split like a Rock show
It's nonstop yo, the turmoil I'm in
I love to see the slugs boil your skin
This ain't no boys to men, none of that soft shit
Even strong whole caps know I've got a poison pen
They say the boys a gem, I'm a diamond in the rough
[?] bitches steady climbing in the trunk
Your weak scriptures sound a little rough
Treat rappers like Hitler, how I line them up
After that you can find them in the trunk
10 pussycats bleeding like that time of the month
Metaphorically ain't nobody as raw as me
But more importantly I would just destroy your beat
No snapping, no popping, no dancing
Just some Hannibal Lec' and Charles Manson
The question: Can-I-Bus? Well here's the answer
I body any rapper you know with no handgun
I'm so handsome but I got a devilish grin
Original man with devilish skin
I put a blade to your face, put a cuff on your chin
You feel you destined to win then step in the ring
But, you know you know you got a better chance
Seeing Canibus and Wyclef connecting again
I cut the net of the rim and hold the trophy up
You wanna battle both of us man you must be smoking dust

[Outro: Termanology]
Canibus, Termanology
Murder Moss on the track