In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
[Canibus]
Get ready for the Louminati tsunami //
[Canibus]
Yo //
You mess with my horse //
You’re dead as a corpse //
Forget it //
Rhymes without ending, with infinite lyrics //
Fools who do get abused like broads //
In a battle for juice where rhymes are metaphors //
When my horse appears count your prayers //
Stab you in the ear then pull out the spear //
Watch the crowd cheer //
Leave the floor wet with all the bloodstains //
So the audience knows that Canibus runs things //
I ripped down stages on many occasions //
Dozens of broken down mics and melted tape decks //
Everywhere I go niggas want to rob me //
Bootleggers be in the front row trying to get a clear copy //
So take caution, ‘cause I’m a Horseman //
And I’ll snatch that ass up quick like ‘turn it off man’ //
So just acknowledge the way that I’m gifted //
‘Cause if rap was a felony I’d be in prison //
Hoggin’ up the phone, cussin’ at the C-O’s //
Twenty-five to life with no parole //
And battling me? You must be feeling yourself //
I ripped the Jacker so hard he might kill himself //
Like his name was Todd or James, back in the dark days //
It’s like a pit-bull getting bit by a Shar-Pei //
I’ll defend my horse, my men, my friends //
My baby’s mama and my offspring so bring it on then //
So I can show you how I devour //
Nigga’s like a Rottweiler with acidic saliva //
Step your shit up nigga, the Rip is much iller //
‘Cause when I write rhymes I use the mind to pick the pen up //
Most artists are garbage, no skills //
They belong in a landfill //
Nobody feels them when they grab the mic // (Lemmie Hear Sumthin’ Else)
And start bragging about their massive ice //
I can’t eat emcees ‘cause I lost my appetite //
I’m a beast you’re a midget with wack lyrics //
Like Dr. Evil said, ‘Quiet! Shut up! Zip it!’ //
I reign superior //
My metaphors are scarier //
Non-ill rappers, you better evacuate //
Before I exfoliate your face //
With abrasive phrases to give your face a face-lift //
Germaine spit insane shit //
So stop hatin’ if you can’t applaud me //
And give rap music the glory //
Get ready for the Louminati tsunami //
[Canibus]
Yo //
You mess with my horse //
You’re dead as a corpse //
Forget it //
Rhymes without ending, with infinite lyrics //
Fools who do get abused like broads //
In a battle for juice where rhymes are metaphors //
When my horse appears count your prayers //
Stab you in the ear then pull out the spear //
Watch the crowd cheer //
Leave the floor wet with all the bloodstains //
So the audience knows that Canibus runs things //
I ripped down stages on many occasions //
Dozens of broken down mics and melted tape decks //
Everywhere I go niggas want to rob me //
Bootleggers be in the front row trying to get a clear copy //
So take caution, ‘cause I’m a Horseman //
And I’ll snatch that ass up quick like ‘turn it off man’ //
So just acknowledge the way that I’m gifted //
‘Cause if rap was a felony I’d be in prison //
Hoggin’ up the phone, cussin’ at the C-O’s //
Twenty-five to life with no parole //
And battling me? You must be feeling yourself //
I ripped the Jacker so hard he might kill himself //
Like his name was Todd or James, back in the dark days //
It’s like a pit-bull getting bit by a Shar-Pei //
I’ll defend my horse, my men, my friends //
My baby’s mama and my offspring so bring it on then //
So I can show you how I devour //
Nigga’s like a Rottweiler with acidic saliva //
Step your shit up nigga, the Rip is much iller //
‘Cause when I write rhymes I use the mind to pick the pen up //
Most artists are garbage, no skills //
They belong in a landfill //
Nobody feels them when they grab the mic // (Lemmie Hear Sumthin’ Else)
And start bragging about their massive ice //
I can’t eat emcees ‘cause I lost my appetite //
I’m a beast you’re a midget with wack lyrics //
Like Dr. Evil said, ‘Quiet! Shut up! Zip it!’ //
I reign superior //
My metaphors are scarier //
Non-ill rappers, you better evacuate //
Before I exfoliate your face //
With abrasive phrases to give your face a face-lift //
Germaine spit insane shit //
So stop hatin’ if you can’t applaud me //
And give rap music the glory //
Lyrics submitted by p609
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