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[Canibus] Yo // I'ma let the world know the truth, you don't want me to shine // You studied my rhyme, then you laced your vocals after mine // That's a bitch move, something that a homo rapper would do // So when you say that you platinum, you only dropping clues // I studied your background, read the book that you wrote // Researched the footnotes, 'bout how you used to sniff coke // Fronting like a drug-free role model, you disgust me // I know bitches that seen you smoke weed recently // You walk around showing off your body ‘cause it sells // Plus to avoid the fact that you ain't got skills // Mad at me ‘cause I kick that shit real niggas feel // When ninety-nine percent of your fans wear high-heels // From Ice-T to Kool Moe Dee to Jay-Z // Now you wanna fuck with me? You must be crazy // You dripping with wack juice, and you can't get it off // You better be prepared to finish what you start, nigga // [Canibus] Yo, get off me man // Yo, yo get the fuck off me man // Yo, get out of my way man, he started this shit // Fuck you, I’ll bite that nigga again // Get the fuck off me man // [Canibus] Yo // You better give me the respect that I deserve, or I'ma take it by force // Blast you with a forty-five Colt, make you summersault // Shock you with a couple hundred thousand volt thunderbolts // Before you wanted a war, now you wanna talk // It's about who strikes the hardest, not who strikes first // That's why I laugh when I hear that wack ass verse // That shit was the worse, rhyme I ever heard in my life // ’Cause the greatest rapper of all time died on March ninth // God bless his soul, rest in peace kid // It's because of him, now at least I know what beef is // It's not what I would call this, see this is something different // A faggot nigga trying to make a living off of dissing // Somebody that he's got to know is better than him // but he's feeling himself, ‘cause he got more cheddar than him // Well let me tell you something, you might got more cash than me // But you ain't got the skills to eat a nigga's ass like me // And if you really want to show off, we can get it on // Live in front of the cameras on your own sitcom // I'll let you kick a verse, fuck it, I'll let you kick them all // I'd even wait for the studio audience to applaud // Now watch me rip the tat from your arm // Kick you in the groin, stick you for your Vanguard award // In front of your mom your first, second, and third born // Make your wife get on the horn, and call Minister Farrakhan // So he could persuade me to squash it, I'd say, “Nah, he started it, // He forgot what a hardcore artist is.” // A hardcore artist is a dangerous man, such as myself // Trained to run twenty miles in soft sand // On or off land, programmed to kick hundreds of bars off hand // From a lost and forgotten land // You done did it man, you done spitted some wack shit // And probably thought that because it's been a minute I'd forget it? // Fuck that, 'cause like Common and Cube I see the bitch in you // And I'ma make the world see it too, motherfucker // |
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