[Chorus]   This is the C section   Rippin and wreckin the lyrical legends sendin y'all to mic club heaven   This is the C section   A lyrical legend second to none in this profession      [Canibus]   I spit it exquisite   And rip it minute by minute   I'm in it to win it   You fuckin rhyme with bis you finished   Lyrical menace scrape enamel off your teeth like a dentist   With a senator minister from the executive senate   Pro-gression followed by metaphorical methods   Testing 1 2 3 4 testing testing   Supreme supremacist nemesis to competitors   Predators eat intestines of anything they entrusted in   Slice you like lettuce and celery start seven   Then make a mc salad out of suckas and sell it   For an expensive percentage   With nine tenths of the credit   Drink red bull beverage to increase lyrical leverage   I only give respect to mic club members and my own mentors   In the center of my circle where I dare you to enter   This is art imitating life imitating art   Imitating the brain simulating thoughts when I talk   Idealistically I spit for free   The cinography of the rhyme is what balances me   Challenges me   E A six speed prowlers   Superior air power   Fly around us with propulsion that's soundless   Spittin rhymes out by the thousands   Nitro-glycerin tablets under the tongue calm me down a bit   Attitude cynicism and lassitude   Battle you? come on dude I should slap you fool   Spit what I'll leave your lips numb the friction is so sick son   Your children disappear from a trition   Rhythmic high intensity conflict is a given it   Especially if Canibus is doin the rippin   You snippin to clippin in the C-section incisions   With scissors with rubber ergonomic grip for the fingers   Liars for hire with a defense like Jeffery Fygar   And rock it like thugs who work for mic club   Hyped up and tear the mic up my man   Move forward as expeditiously as I can   Ain't nobody in the world like Bis   The nitrous with radio telescopic devices   Same type shit   Facially hairless igogarious Jamaican-American   Lyricist turned microphone terrorist   Airlift me off the front line to my therapist   So I can sit in his chair and tell him how much I care for this   This is what they want this is what they love   To engage in the exchange of ideas and drugs   While I'm in the cut satellite trackin you rappers   With months of food rations beneath the catacombs of Paris   Theories of super-lattice and super-savage   Atomic attack tachometers flash when I punch the gas bitch   The farther I climb the harder I rhyme   You gotta face death and survive to feel more alive   The quality of life is an illusion of the mind   Super-imposed lines look two-dimensional from the side   According to the science of the C-section applied   If they say I'm the best after I die don't be surprised   I C-section the sky let my energy rise   At the moment of truth I know it's definitely my time   As my soul is eased through the sive I'll be grateful because I lived   The only drawback is that I didn't have kids   To C-section my beautiful whiz   And see the resemblance of my face in hers or his   Who knows what the future will bring   It stresses me to think   This mic meant everything now it doesn't seem important   Now I gotta follow orders defend borders   From Maine to California Seattle to Florida   If I could talk to the Oracle I know what I'd ask her   I'd speak to her about my passions   As the hourglasses turn my life passes   I'll just wait till I see the master and I'll just ask him   Forget it that's the future this is the present   A message to anybody listenin to the C section      [Chorus] - repeat 2X