Canibus Die Slow Lyrics

Yo
(Die slow)
Yeah
(Die slow)
Ya *****s better
(Die slow)
Uh
(Die slow)

All you can do is die slow *****
(Die slow)
(Die slow)
(Die slow)
(Die slow)
(Die slow)
(Die slow)

All you can do is die
(Die slow)
Yeah
(Die slow)
(Die slow)

**** y'all
(Die slow)
(Die slow)
Die slow *****
(Die slow)
(Die slow)

Yo, you against me, no contest, my tongue hydraulics
Strong enough to flip a '64 Impala with 3 adult passengers
And a 4 hundred pound driver
And drown you in less than an ounce of your own saliva

Rubber face rappers get, stretched like elastic
Claymation characters wit verbal vernacular
Slappin' ya, like a white water rafter
Or a Olympic kayaked, paddlin' across the Niagara

My afterburners'll be burnin' you after
Ya' body already been splashed with acid and you turn to ashes
***assins camouflaged in the grass blastin'
Leavin' blood all over ya' lady like Jackie O'Nassis

I'll fly ya' body outta Dallas
Perform plastic surgery while we airborne and switch caskets
Then lie to the masses, I'll tell 'em that
You got murdered over some East West beef, between rappers

Radio stations'll express their sadness
Play classics back to back and pass out stop the violence pamphlets
Just imagine, every night ya' girls ****in' ya' best friend
While you in hell throwin' tantrums

I'll be lampin' in a mansion somewhere out in the Hamptons
Givin' some pretty *** ***** a spankin', ***** you can't win
I'm laughin' 'cause you a has been
You'll never get ya' groove back

So don't even bother askin', Angela Bassett
You'll just get ya' *** kicked
Get ya' head chopped off and dropped in a basket
My left arms taken but my right ones free
That means I could diss another mutha****in' emcee

Wit rhymes that appear clearer than liquid crystal
My lyrical is more visual than television screen pixels
I fire pistols, hit you wit' miniature missiles
Riddle ya' body wit' holes then watch the blood sprinkle

Ya probably had no idea what you was gettin' into
On the mic, Can-I-bus is invincible
**** you

(Die slow)
Hey yo, that ***** got an attitude
(Die slow)
Yeah, he be actin' rude
(Die slow)
And he's always trynna' battle you
(Die slow)
That last album was terrible

(Die slow)
When he's on the radio
(Die slow)
He never got a clean mouth
(Die slow)
Yeah, every time he freestyles
(Die slow)
His words be gettin' bleeped out

(Die slow)
You got the album?
(Die slow)
Naw, I heard it was weak
(Die slow)
You got the album? I said it was weak
(Die slow)
But the **** don't come out till next week

(Die slow)
Hey yo, I like the *****'s beats
(Die slow)
Yo that **** be comin' bugged out
(Die slow)
Hey yo, that ***** Bis dumbs out
(Die slow)
He waited too long to come out

To you ***** *****s who talk a lot but walk the block, in halter tops
Left side of ya chest, mark the spot
That's where a ***** put it, when I'm hooded
Then fill you up wit big bullets prepare you for some channel 6 footage

Know what is, me and Bis, runnin' through ya courtyard
Creepin' wit a four-five and reachin' for ya door knob
Throw a gun under ya chin, see how quick your whore rise
One shot could have a short slide, right out the North side

Your whole flow is porkrine, spit the small oints
I'm nasty, but my small joints grip the bar point
Drop on top of the blue line, right beside the red one
Keep the flow fearsome, 'til the day my career done

Bring it to ya *** if you the challengin' type
Especially those, surroundin' the mic, sound of the light
To the Journ, y'all ain't no suitable splitters
True to you *****s, lay you out on MD's, recoupin' ya liver

Shoutin' my name
Ya best to control the noise soldier boy
Or homicide will be all over you poys with Polaroids

(Die slow)
Yeah, yo that ***** Journalist gets busy yo
(Die slow)
I heard he's from Philly yo
(Die slow)
I seen him in Bis video
(Die slow)
He's so skinny tho'

(Die slow)
Now he's rollin' wit Canibus?
(Die slow)
I don't even understand his ****
(Die slow)
That ***** sounds like an amateur
(Die slow)
Yo, I heard Jay manage him

(Die slow)
Yo, he got some heavy gold ****
(Die slow)
Man, that's some old ****
(Die slow)
Yeah yo, the *****s that he roll wit'
(Die slow)
Probably let 'em hold it

(Die slow)
He got alotta Benji's
(Die slow)
No he don't
(Die slow)
Every time, when I see him in the back of the source
(Die slow)
He looks [Incomprehensible]


Written by: Tyrone Gregory Fyffe, George Rafeik, Germaine Williams
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Artists A to Z: