Canibus - Rip the Jacker lyrics

Calling all dogs, calling all dogs Be on the look out for a big h*mo n***a with dimples And I'ma let y'all know somethin', it ain't just start here We've been preyin' on that a** since 'Jack the Ripper' And now its time to rip it to the jacker (Ahhhhhhhhhhh ...) No rapper could rap quite like I can You know who the f**k I am, I'm the canibus man I had to rock to a beat like this to show you That I'm iller then the future, the present, and the old you I told you, wish you could take it all back don't you Tried to smoke some canibus but canibus smoked you Calling yourself the greatest is something you don't do Cause after I humiliate you what will the G.O.A.T. do You can't rap or act my main man You goin' end up as an intern working for Def Jam See you was never bad enough to battle with Canibus You out of luck, I crushed you the minute I got tatted up And every lie you told just added up cause you wasn't man enough To be fair, but I'm mad a f**k and I've had enough Jack the ripper or I'ma rip the jacker Rape a rapper with a cla**ic from his own masters You're dead There's a rumor going around that I got dropped 200,000 albums sold at 10 dollars a pop 300,000 albums were shipped, you do the math Thats 3 million in 3 months so kiss my a** All these magazines tried to steamroll me to d**h Guess what, the G.O.A.T. ain't platinum and neither is 'Clef And I'm still here, inspite of all that sh** them n***az said The skinny kid, the music industry's guinea pig Tighter then ever, world's chief mic recka Tougher then reverend run's muthaf**kin' leatha I'm hardcore, cum shot right in your wife's face You soft p**n, you held hands on the first date See when you was making records like I need love Your homie Cornell was givin' it to you up the bu*t Plus I heard Simone was the high school s*ut And she learned how to f**k before she knew how to cuss n***a you're dead You married a s*ut and had kids with her to cover up your hustle You and your man Russell made a better couple Your probably mad as f**k, wondering where I got the information from Your being watched even when you take a dump Its impossible to front, you can't hide The chairs at your label got ears and the walls got eyes Your living one big lie the world just don't know You take a polygraph test that sh** would probably explode The truth is mr. smith you got a f**ked up attitude God knows that I pitty your fans for backing you Yo, this be the realest sh** I ever wrote You should change your muthaf**kin' name from G.O.A.T. to G.L.O.A.T The Greatest Liar Of All Time that cannot rhyme That cannot shine as long as I'm alive Your prime ended 8 months before '99 And that microphone on your arm will always be mine n***a you're dead I told you to leave it alone, but you was too stubborn Now your in a world where the hunter becomes the hunted Your wife is scared cause she don't want to lose a husband And somebody keeps paging you putting 4321 in You can't sleep at night thinking about the drama sh** stains all up in your phat farm pijamas Even f.u.b.u. gear looks hot until it touches you Probably because your father undoubtedly bu*t-f**ked you Mama said knock who out? I'll punch that b**h in the mouth Cause she don't know what she talking about Ay yo, do me a favor when you see your ghostwriters Tell them the rhymes they wrote for you should have been a lot tighter You could have asked me, I'll write you some lines I'll do anything for the greatest loser of all time You still drippin' with wack juice 'cause you wack n***a If you want the last word you can have it, I'm still iller You're dead