[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