Canibus Die Slow

[Canibus]
Yo, Yeah //
You niggas better //
All you could do is die slow nigga //
All you could do is die //
Fuck y’all //

(Canibus)
You against me? No contest, my tongue hydraulics //
Strong enough to flip a sixty-four Impala with three adult passengers //
And a four-hundred pound driver //
And drown you in less than an ounce of your own saliva //
Rubber-faced rappers get //
Stretched like elastic Claymation characters with verbal vernacular //
Slapping you, like a white-water rafter or an Olympic kayaker //
Paddling across the Niagara //
My afterburners should be burning you after your body’s already been splashed with acid //
And you turn into ashes //
Assassins camouflaged in the grass blasting //
Leaving blood all over your lady like Jackie Onassis //
I fly your body out of Dallas //
Perform plastic surgery while we’re airborne and switch caskets //
Then lie to the masses, I tell them that you got murdered over some East-West beef //
Between rappers //
Radio stations’ll express they sadness //
Play classics back to back and pass out ‘stop the violence’ pamphlets //
Just imagine, every night your girl’s fucking your best-friend //
While you’re in Hell, throwing tantrums //
I be lamping in a mansion, somewhere out in the Hamptons //
Giving some pretty-ass bitch a spanking //
Nigga you can’t win, I’m laughing ‘cause you a has-been //
You can’t get your groove back, so don’t even bother asking Angela Bassett //
You’ll just get your ass kicked, get your head chopped off, and dropped in a basket //
My left arm’s taken but my right one’s free //
That means I can diss another mother fucking emcee //
With rhymes that appear clearer than liquid crystal //
My lyrical is more visual than television screen pixels //
I fire pistols, hit you with miniature missiles //
Riddle your body with holes, then watch the blood trickle //
You probably had no idea what you was getting into //
‘Cause on the mic, Can-I-Bus is invincible //
Fuck you

[Break]
"Die Slow" through out the convo)
Hey Yo that nigga got an attitude
Yeah he be actin rude
And he's always trynna' battle you
That last album was terrible
When he's on the radio he never got a clean mouth
Yeah everytime he freestyles, his words be gettin' bleeped out
You got the album?
Naw I heard it was weak
You got the album?
I said it was weak
But the shit don't come out till next week
Hey Yo I like the nigga's beats
Yo that shit be comin' bugged out
Hey Yo that nigga Bis dumbs out
He waited too long to come out............

(Journalist)
To you bitch niggas who talk alot
But walk the block, in halter tops
Left side of ya chest, mark the spot
That's where a nigga 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 fairsome, 'till the day my career done
Bring it to ya ass if you the challengin type
Especially those, surroundin' the mic
Sound of the light
To the Journ, ya'll ain't no suitable spitters
True to you niggas
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

(CONVO 2)
("Die Slow" through out the convo)
Yea, yo that nigga Journalist gets busy yo
I heard he's from Philly yo
I seen him in Bis video
He's so skinny tho'
Now he's rollin' wit Canibus?
I don't even understand his shit
That nigga sounds like an amaetur
Yo i heard Jay manage him
Yo he got some heavy gold shit
Man, that's some old shit
Yea yo the niggas that he roll wit'
probably let 'em hold it
He got alotta Benji's
No he don't
Everytime, when i see him in the back of The Source
He looks <????>