Released on November 19, 2002

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[Chorus]

This is the C Section, ripping and wrecking

The lyrical legend sending y'all to Mic Club heaven

This is the C Section

A lyrical legend, second to none in this profession


[Verse]

I spit it exquisite and rip it minute by minute

I'm in it to win it, you fucking rhyme with Bis you finished

Lyrical menace scrape enamel off your teeth like a dentist

With a sedative administered from the executive senate

Poor progression followed by metaphorical methods

Testing, 1, 2, 3, 4, testing, testing

Supreme supremacist nemesis to competitors

Predators eat intestines of anything they interested in

Slice you like lettuce and celery start seven

Then make an MC salad out of suckers 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 stenography of the rhyme is what balances me, challenges me

EA-6B Prowlerss, superior air power

Will fly around us with propulsion that's soundless

Spitting rhymes out by the thousands

Nitroglycerin 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 chin'll disappear from attrition

Rhythmic high intensity conflict is a given it

Especially if Canibus is doin the rippin

You snipping to clipping in the C-section incisions

With scissors with rubber ergonomic grip for the fingers

Liars for hire with a defense like Geoffrey Fieger

And rock it like thugs who work for Mic Club

Hyped up, tear the mic up my man

And 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, a gregarious 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 tracking 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 sieve I'll be grateful because I lived

The only drawback is that I didn't have kids

To C-section my beautiful wiz

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 and my life passes

I'll just wait 'til I see the Master and I'll just ask him

Forget it, that's the future, this is the present

A message to anybody listening to the C section


[Chorus]

This is the C Section, ripping and wrecking

The lyrical legend sending y'all to Mic Club heaven

This is the C Section

A lyrical legend sending y'all to Mic Club heaven

This is the C Section, ripping and wrecking

The lyrical legend sending y'all to Mic Club heaven

This is the C Section

A lyrical legend sending y'all to Mic Club heaven