Intro (Rip the Jacker) – Canibus – letras

Rip the Jacker LyricsCalling all dogs, calling all dogsBe on the look out for a big homo nigga with dimplesAnd I’ma let y’all know somethin’, it ain’t just start hereWe’ve been preyin’ on that ass since ‘Jack the Ripper’And now its time to rip it to the jacker(ahhhhhhhhhhh …..)[Verse 1]No rapper could rap quite like I canYou know who the fuck I am, I’m the canibus manI had to rock to a beat like this to show youThat I’m iller then the future, the present, and the old youI told you, wish you could take it all back don’t youTried to smoke some canibus but canibus smoked youCalling yourself the greatest is something you don’t doCause after I humiliate you what will the G.O.A.T. doYou can’t rap or act my main manYou goin’ end up as an intern working for Def JamSee you was never bad enough to battle with CanibusYou out of luck, I crushed you the minute I got tatted upAnd every lie you told just added up cause you wasn’t man enoughTo be fair, but I’m mad a fuck and I’ve had enoughJack the ripper or I’ma rip the jackerRape a rapper with a classic from his own mastersYou’re dead[Verse 2]There’s a rumor going around that I got dropped200,000 albums sold at 10 dollars a pop300,000 albums were shipped, you do the mathThats 3 million in 3 months so kiss my assAll these magazines tried to steamroll me to deathGuess what, the G.O.A.T. ain’t platinum and neither is ‘ClefAnd I’m still here, inspite of all that shit them niggaz saidThe skinny kid, the music industry’s guinea pigTighter then ever, world’s chief mic reckaTougher then reverend run’s muthafuckin’ leathaI’m hardcore, cum shot right in your wife’s faceYou soft porn, you held hands on the first dateSee when you was making records like I need loveYour homie Cornell was givin’ it to you up the buttPlus I heard Simone was the high school slutAnd she learned how to fuck before she knew how to cussNigga you’re dead[Verse 3]You married a slut and had kids with her to cover up your hustleYou and your man Russell made a better coupleYour probably mad as fuck, wondering where I got the information fromYour being watched even when you take a dumpIts impossible to front, you can’t hideThe chairs at your label got ears and the walls got eyesYour living one big lie the world just don’t knowYou take a polygraph test that shit would probably explodeThe truth is mr. smith you got a fucked up attitudeGod knows that I pitty your fans for backing youYo, this be the realest shit I ever wroteYou should change your muthafuckin’ name from G.O.A.T. to G.L.O.A.T.The Greatest Liar Of All Time that cannot rhymeThat cannot shine as long as I’m aliveYour prime ended 8 months before ’99And that microphone on your arm will always be mineNigga you’re dead[Verse 4]I told you to leave it alone, but you was too stubbornNow your in a world where the hunter becomes the huntedYour wife is scared cause she don’t want to lose a husbandAnd somebody keeps paging you putting 4321 inYou can’t sleep at night thinking about the dramaShit stains all up in your phat farm pijamasEven f.u.b.u. gear looks hot until it touches youProbably because your father undoubtedly butt-fucked youMama said knock who out? I’ll punch that bitch in the mouthCause she don’t know what she talking aboutAy yo, do me a favor when you see your ghostwritersTell them the rhymes they wrote for you should have been a lot tighterYou could have asked me, I’ll write you some linesI’ll do anything for the greatest loser of all timeYou still drippin’ with wack juice ’cause you wack niggaIf you want the last word you can have it, I’m still illerYou’re dead