Dr C Phd

Yo, I plan to build a myself a facility before I'm 40

A molecular archceogenetic laboratory

That can analyze complex poetry data for me

Even if it was recorded poorly, how extraordinary

I frog leap over awful beats

Then I separate rappers by the carbon-14s

To determine the age of anything ever made

Regardless of how the outside surface has changed

I put a curse on your name, bombard your brain

With gamma x-rays till you burst into flames

With the scientifically quantifiable megalomaniacal

Viable style, it's like trying to ride a bull

Let's have a dictionary duel after school

Check into me a nice Cedar Sinai room

So I can get sick as the flu, spittin the truth

If you ain't got this album, you missing the proof

Prepare for your doom my nuclear rocket plumes

Glow against the pale background of the moon

Toxic fumes spoil complete stocks of fruits, and foods

Burning your flammable boxes and booms

Got in the groove even though I'm not in the mood

Motherfucker you didn't win 'cause I can't lose

Give the fans the chance to choose, fuck you

Who's the illest, who's it really up to

Rapping fire, you better run for the pacifier

Tie you up and drown you in the saliva quagmire

Till your oxygen expires and your lungs dry up

'cause you said Bis ain't dope, you a damn liar

Disaster for hire over beats by pious

Flow like the Tigris, Euphrates, with the Eye of the Tiger

In my iris, Canibus is a fighter

Motherfucker, my greatgrandfather was Irish

Let's roll the dices, 'll break you like young Tyson

Give me the mic man, I don't need no hype man

Put a thousand on me, put one on him

I tear off his limbs, throw him in, and tell him to swim

Yo I soak that shit and coat that shit in soy sauce

Tell the FCC boss, turn that noise off

Call Detroit's Mafia Boss

Tell him yo, I got a job for you, I want you to bust his balls

Drop him off by Niagra Falls

Write my name on a banana and put the banana between his jaws

Nobody disrespects lyrical law

I'm the best there ever is and the best ever was

Training like a grunt face down in the mud

With blood, sweat, and tears, sucking it up

Yo, you wonder where I am right now

I'm probably somewhere on the microphone fucking it up

Dead or alive, Canibus will live through the rhyme

To be the illest on the mic is a mission of mine

Spittin' divine, you can't get it twisted this time

Vocal with a mirror to make sure my lips are aligned

Dr C, PHD graduated from UMG

Bright as the LCD display on a new MP

Prototype of a true MC

With 3d topography maps you can't see

Butcher on Broad Street, wrapping CDs

In butcher paper, doing artwork with Sharpies

If you don't like the quality, then talk to me

What the fuck you on the website for you creep?

Punching the keys, remember that sound

That's exactly what it sounds like when i'm punching your teeth

Kick a rap, bitch, if you've got the gumption to speak

Stand next to me, i might put a lump in your meat

Diss you and your man, double the beef

To tell you the truth, I thought your rebuttal was weak

Round the outside, blah, blah, etcetra, etcetra

The body of my literature is bigger than South America

Nigga look, this is all I gots to say

Suck my P-H-D-I-C-K