[Intro: movie sample]

Claims are being made that for me go far beyond the available evidence and in fact in many cases are contradicted by the evidence and that bothers me

[Verse: Canibus]

Forensic psychologist Samuel Dubios

Explains, "You'll probably never understand Germaine"

Incoherent speeches, puzzles in pieces

The sub-chemical deepness of his glandular excretions

Realms of Heaven and Hell

Glowing angelic gel spliced with bovine leukaemia cells

Demons in Hell they call to me, I scream, "What can you offer me?!"

They reply, "Techno-sorcery"

They tell me the meek will never inherit the world

'Cause they're weak standing on two 12-inch feet

I dream quasi-Draconian dreams when I sleep

Peyote leaves mixed with the blood of a priest

In a room where the ceiling leaks of crimson grease

Where the living eats the dead and the dead reek

Rock-bottom transforms human beings to beasts

Why the fuck you think we got canine teeth?

It's the optical stimuli of watching men cry

I hope I've got time to repent before I die

Bury me at the beach if the sea is out of reach

'Cause when I speak, what's fluid becomes concrete

Like a falcon up in the sky, ten thousand feet

Looking down at you bitches looking at me

Phase shifting to forty-five degrees

I'm too crooked to see, I memorize the books that I read

Sucking from the breast of knowledge – constantly weaning

Unbeseemingly a genius without meaning

Try to visualize what Harry Houdini was feeling

Handcuffed underwater without breathing

Near death on a fatal quest for air

But why should anyone care? He put himself there

His career was based on facing his fears

To take destiny from the hand of the man upstairs

He didn't mind the cold stares he got from his peers

They couldn't tell him where he was going or how to get there

It's better to be prepared and fail

Than to be scared and unsure of yourself and still get killed

Don't rhyme like I used to but I still got skills

More than a couple confirmed kills under the belt

Hunting MCs like hunting elk

Camouflaged in the dense brush for stealth, determined as Hell

I don't do this for anybody except myself

Stuff a motherfucker like a trophy on my shelf

Fuck the promo, nigga, I do this for dolo

Flow from the first hour to 24:00

Round the clock, long as I got a cup of cocoa

But I'll be a no-show if my girl cries, "Don't go!"

And she give me blow more than two times in a row

I'd rather chill with her than kill you with a rhyme that I wrote

Count how many mics I smoke minus the G.O.A.T

Bus is dope, my battling average higher than most

When I'm on the mic I release fire from throat

If you disagree please do it quietly folks

Anybody better than Bis must be a hoax

Black man? No! What about the Great White Hope?

What? Man, you must be sniffing great white coke

Don't you know that's like Gary Coleman fighting the Hulk?

Still not even quite that close

A great white biting your rubber dingy boat fifty miles out from the coast

What the fuck is the Mathers with you?

I'll beat you black and blue then I get a tat of you too

Better yet I'll put a tattoo of me on you

A ten by ten 'C' logo – neon blue

The most theatrical MC battle of all time

I rip jackers like you, you know my call sign

Killer cobras that hover over Jehovah

In motorized auto-giros with sycamore rotors

Hydrogen peroxide, gaseous vapors

Technically these words shouldn't even rhyme off paper

In theory, for every soul that can hear me, I'ma blaze them

In practical practice my style's even greater

Can't you see what I'm spitting? Can't you hear the difference?

Compared to me you're energetically inefficient

You need ten times the enzymes to process one of my rhymes

You've got to rewind every one of my lines

Do you know how to paraphrase?

Do you even understand what the narrator is tryna say?

The climax explodes, nobody can foreshadow my flow

Figuratively the language is too dope

Academic journals print my lyrical quotes

They show parallelism in all the albums I wrote

On any track I come off strong automatically

Whether I write in an active or passive capacity

Poetry that I spit is synonymous to a glyph

Written on tablets of clay mortar mix

Superb, truly superb! Analyze the words

It's like observing the birds fly above the Earth

The Eye of Horus, the miniature torii within the giant torus

With singularity on the chorus, I still sound enormous

Borderline insanity tryna break through humanity's border

With a new curriculum every quarter

I'm the porter of the portal of the secret Mic Club Order

Baptize you with Jamaican white rum and water

If you've got a hundred bars then I know you're a warrior

I'll be the one who awards you and pins the medal on you

Dedicate a song to you because now you're honorable

You want a record deal?

Explain the lyrical Grand Unified Field so I can test your skill

Do it in front of the class, chart diagram it

And write it in Latin not Spanish goddamnit

Step back so I can look at it

(No puede entender las palabras que dio senior Williams?)

Huh? What the fuck is that wack shit?

You're clumsy and dumb like a hand with five thumbs

Welcome to Mic Club: Curriculum 101