Canibus Vs Dizaster song by King of the Dot from Primary Album Vendetta. The music is composed and produced by Joel. Genre is Battle Rap, Rap music. The Record company is unknown. Released on June 9, 2012.
The video content came from: Youtube
Canibus Vs Dizaster Meaning
| [[Round 1: Canibus] Those look like Tom Cruise mom shoes Soaked in some nasty ass wonton soup You ’bout to lose, what you got to prove? Yeah, who you gon’ rap circles around? Turn around, ‘cause you ain’t allowed to worship the crown You look like a dead bird on the ground With your bones exposed, this is your funeral services now This is your death, Diz, pour it out, pass it around I laugh at your style, the wise owl laughs at the crowd Pound for pound? I clip your wings, lift your ass off the ground Throw you in the air, crash you in the clouds Slaughterhouse? What the fuck is you talking about? I brought enough rhymes to snuff all four of them out I bet you hang out with Elton John in Lebanon When Eminem’s gone So both of y’all can make feminine bars You must be smokin’, hopin’ an opium pipe If you think you gon’ win tonight Yeah right, these people came to see a fight I’ma fuck you up in this battle royale, yeah, dawg I’ma make you not wanna ever rap no more ‘Cause you cheatin’! You know you in agreement with demons; you suckin’ semen! You really think that’s air that you breathin’? You dirty fucking scumbag trashbag of scum You look like a vampire that drinks faggot blood And you gonna catch that fade, baby The streets is watching, like Jay Z I’ll squeeze your IV ’til you sit up and face me You crazy, your EKG beepin’ like you lazy Fuck you! Pay me, or donate it to Haiti! To be here today, I had to hypnotize myself But it’s impossible to lie to myself Look at him! It’s like I’m standing beside myself He bit my whole fucking style I got MMA niggas in the crowd I should make them whoop your ass right now Ayo, hood niggas! What’s good, nigga? Wing nuts, battle you in the woods around trees and ninjas Battle rap 20 degrees colder in the winter In the summer I’m sizzler, roll you up like rizzlers Toss you a thousand bars, nigga, tell you to bench it Then I battle you again, just to see if you meant it Look at the people on the rooftop, the people on the fences You came here healthy, you gon’ leave here injured Real gladiators gotta bleed in the trenches Go ahead, Diz, do your famous Slim Shady impression! Bring 5’9″ in the session, I teach the three of you a lesson I spit real rap shit, you pop shit, no question Dizaster and his fans is a bunch of bitches You know I’m hardcore, I showed up with stitches Come on, Diz, now you know you in over your head When there’s people in the crowd That memorize battle rhymes I said I’ll battle you in the flesh, I’ll battle you on the net I’ll battle you over the phone, you can call me collect I’ll battle you for respect, I’ll battle you over a blank check I’ll battle you with a gun to my neck I’ll battle you over the toilet with my dick out I’ll battle you juggling a hand grenade with the pin out In a stolen car with the VIN number ripped out Drinking a Guiness Stout doing a 360 spinout You already know, I look like Riddick, out the slam You a Arabic Peter Pan lookin’ out for the clan Come on, fam, you know the big bad wolf eat the lamb I’m a tiger with infinite stripes, you Tucan Sam Damn! You know cocaine’s a hell of a drug Made this dumbfuck wanna battle Can-I-Bus I told this nigga, I’m takin’ your ass to Disneyland I’ma piss in your mouth, while you shittin’ your pants And while the lyrics enhance, my fans gonna shit on your fans I’m glad you a battle thug The big bad wolf gonna drink a glass of your blood I’ll use your skin for a fuckin’ prayer rug I’ll destroy you, I hated you the first time I saw you Mothafuckas like you get buried for being loyal I’m ashamed of Hip-Hop for even praising you You don’t exist before YouTube ‘Cause you ain’t really paid no dues You make me sick! You get respect for saying stupid shit Your fans are clueluess, they think you got juice and shit Everytime you in Atlanta, Eddy Long is your pastor You a rug trader traitor, a fake gold jewlery chain maker A slum dog millionaire’s neighbor I’m a Jamaican assasin, you a Dizaster waitin’ to happen You couldn’t fight your way out of a wet paper napkin I jumped out my momma pussy You fell out your mother booty all wiggly Covered in humus, all filthy I’ma let the world know the truth, you don’t want me to shine You study my rhymes, then you laid your vocals after mine That’s a bitch move, something that Dizaster would do You say you the best battler in the world? You ain’t telling the truth You studied my background, ain’t no book that I wrote Ain’t no footnotes, your whole style is one big joke From DNA to Arsonal to KOTD Now you wanna fuck with me? You must be crazy I’m a apex predator, you a battle rap degenerate Tryin’ to gain leverage from a high fructose beverage , [Round 1: Dizaster] Yo, whatever y’all expecting from me Today think the reversal of that Today every single verse that I rap Is gonna have zero personal attacks I’ma use the science and math and shit that you teachin’ And I’ma murk you with that No personals, no jokes, just lyricism ‘Cause Hip-Hop has always been like that So anything he says to me intellectual I’ma be able to flip right back I can teach y’all how to chemically break down an enzyme flat Stabilize the temperature using incubators Which condense molecules that turns into H2O, you can get right back, ‘cause when particles… Wait a minute, y’all thought I was gonna come out here And spit some stupid shit like that?! Ayo, let me get this fuckin’ word off Fuckin’ faggot brought all of his homies with him He hasn’t even got his verse off And this little fucking homo already got his shirt off You wanna shit the […], you get killed and […] You fucking pussy, you probably paint your pinky nails And chill with him at Chippendale’s Welcome to Hell, Germaine, the wrath is comin’ This is the part of the rap you get your ass confronted Then I catch you in the back gettin’ relaxed and blunted And set the place on fire ‘Til it feels like you sittin’ inside of a dragon’s stomach You cats don’t want it You get castrated and hacked in nuggets I make chicken strips out of your loved ones That’s what I call a “Family Bucket” I’m like KFC when I pull the axe out You get slashed and gutted, so fast even the King Of the Dot staff will need panoramic camera coverage Just to capture the angles of blood back From the other side of the room when I drag you from it Fuckin’ yelling over my shit like they always do That’s some shit I already knew But what’s wrong with you Canibus? What is it, you fucked it up doing some skateboarding stuff? I’m tryin’ to figure out how you ended up With your bones getting crunched But now it makes sense, I get it, you punched yourself in the chest so hard you made your own shoulders touch You had a fall from grace Fell a long way from the praise that he’s gotten To being straight misplaced and forgotten Nowadays from place to place he be hoppin’ But he never feels safe No matter where’s at, from all the names he be droppin’ And he keeps droppin’ names Even after all the pain that it cost him He stays takin’ losses, LL Cool J basically stomped him The same happened with Slim Shady Even though you initiated the problem So it’s safe to say after today, this’ll be the nail in his coffin I got infinite skill… Even if you took millions and millions of pills Like the kid from the film Limitless, you still couldn’t think of shit that’s this ill; I’m ill, ridiculous, chill You physically built like a little bitch Your squad trippin’ then they all gettin’ killed Your dogs, I’m skinning them Knitting them into a sweater quicker than Cruella de Vil Look at this fuckin’ treatment I’m givin’ him! Look at the treatment I’m givin’ this old ass senior citizen That wouldn’t be seen within the reach of 300 feet Of the streets of Michigan, from all the nightmares and dreams of Slim repeatedly rippin’ him I ain’t Peter Griffin, so why do I beef with this chicken? Jabbin’ and kickin repeatedly until he bleeds from his ribs And then falls asleep on the concrete In the same fetal position he was left in ever since Eminem beat his career in submission and didn’t let him spit again Blackballed and restricted him Blocked him from his mission or any other business attempts So, techically, Slim ended up stiffin’ him Harder than he did to Kim ever since the last time the bitch attempted taking half of his shit from him You a pitiful guy, miserable type sucker You lived in a time cluster where it was easy for getting by ‘Cause most of the industry lines Were missing those intricate rhyme structures So your lyrics to them were like mind-fuckers But as the Internet winds, buffered You realized it’s harder to keep up with these little guys ‘Cause it’s like a million times tougher I mean, looking at him, I feel like the Universe just wants to witness this guy suffer, ‘cause he’s going through hell And LL’s out in some ridiculous-priced suburb He probably lives with a white butler Who every night is hired to fix him a nice supper He literally drives like 65 hummers And everyone of them is specifically a different type of color Yo, y’all know what rhymes with Germaine Williams? (NEVER MADE MILLIONS!) That’s what it is! Never made millions! That dude, I don’t know who he is, but he’s straight brilliant So, what happend after your successive second round knock out? Exactly, nothing happened! There was no one left on Earth for Canibus to call out So he pretty much ran out of things to talk about The industry blocked him out And they fuckin’ locked him out And we didn’t hear from him again ’til he popped up in a song calling out every single member from Slaughterhouse You would’ve socked every one of them out? Pfft, don’t be mad at them because you took the hater/salty route Mothafucka, everybody hates your guts You called everybody out from Slaughterhouse Except Crooked I ‘cause Crooked I would’ve stomped you out Bro, everybody fuckin’ hates you What the fuck are you talking ’bout? We interviewed LL And even his own mama said to knock you out Look at the bright side, you’re like a certified author now You can write a novel on what being blackballed is all about It’s probably all them call-outs And them blogs and why he had a falling-out It’s like being inside of a poolhall when watchin’ his ass fall, ‘cause he got ate, blackballed and then they chalked him out Fuck are you talking ’bout? He wants to rap with me, we all miss that Canibus That used to attack with the thirst, rage Snap and burst, like an animal that’s trapped in a dirt cage But nowadays you uninspired And I can see the cracks in your wordplay You’re saying “Aww, I kept it true to Hip-Hop” Blahblahblahblah, that’s what the herbs say You took your ball home and went home ‘Cause things in the industry weren’t happening your way You wanted to become famous too You and LL were suppose to collab on the first tape But he bodybagged you off the track in the worst way Then you came back and you said “It wasn’t about the fame, it’s about being heard And there’s a purpose to every actual verse made.” But that’s the impact the accurate words make, ‘cause if it was truly about the art, and the lab was your workplace Then you would’ve never wanted to be On a track like that in the first place I fuckin’ hate it when people try to go mainstream And then flip-flop, and then they try to disguise their failure As them being true to Hip-Hop So I don’t give a fuck what you got to talk about Next time one of your homies pops out That’s how you do a fuckin’ first round knock-out! , [Round 2: Canibus] You fucking Iranian shoe-bombing, Islamic Math Hoffin’ Jewish Bronze Solomon, in Jesus Christ name, Amen! Separated shoulder, crawlin’ outta border control I ain’t have enough quarters for the toll $300 dollar bounty, it took 10 days before I got out the county They was fightin’ all around me, this is how they found me I came here to do you worse than DNA did I wanted it to be no more wins for you in this battle rap biz I wanted to eat your fuckin’ heart Two chambers at a time, ‘cause maybe after that you’ll understand the danger of the rhyme Gravity is a repulsion, not an attraction When it comes to lyrics I used to be the living Bruce Lee in action Counter-psychological measures reduce the pressure Who’s better? That mothafucka? Never! It’s gonna take a lot more than him To make Can-I-Bus a believer Man, I thought you was gonna walk out with Justin Bieber I never met a battler that act like Stan so much He wanna be Marshall so bad He put up bread to battle Can-I-Bus Tell ’em! You hang out with Elton John in Lebanon when Eminem’s gone, so both of y’all can massage RuPaul’s balls Are you a faggot or a faggot magnet? Why the fuck are you so obsessed with eating rappers’ asses? What are you, Dizaster? Are you an Iranian monkey trainer? A middle-eastern gospel country singer? Or a hot urine-drinkin’, camel-kissing sand nigga? Is that a urostomy bag? Come here, let me talk to you, man Somebody strip search this terrorist fag! That’s right, I smell the fear, somewhere in here and up there I seen the piss running down the stairs I bet you in your whole life never even cleaned one weapon You play Call of Duty and do Scarface impressions Chill, bedrin! Real G’s come out to see the legends Nobody gives a shit about the honorable mentions If I catch him levitatin’, I’m devastatin’ I’ll shave him and suffocate him Then bring him back to life to interrogate him You fuckin’ Pagan! What I told you about meditatin’? What the fuck is a Canadian Arabian? I’m Rip the Jacker! The white chapel black battler Say it faster, Dizaster is a punchline ameteur You can’t even ride a beat! Get your bitch-ass off the street! Your bitch-ass should be across the street Talk is cheap, until a lyrical metal jacket lift you off your feet I been the goddamn a cappella chief all week When I’m done with you, you gon’ be rappin’ in China Somewhere with no runnin water, battlin’ minors With Fresh Coast tonighters And a fresh slice of Fresh Coast hepatitis You a pedophile that bites vaginas! In a dark room eatin’ mosquitos, flies, and spiders ‘Bout to get waterboarded, hooked up to two wires The crowd say “ooh”, the crowd say “ahh” Unlimited rounds, you must be in the mood to die! Mema-se mama-sa mama-makusa I put a tattoo of you on Treach’s arm right next to 2Pac , [Round 2: Dizaster] Metal jackets, you pathetic faggot I will stomp you to death, I’m a fuckin’ hustler So when I be callin people, you know, I call to collect But when Canibus be calling people You know, he be callin’ collect See, you wanna talk the talk out here, just deposit the check ‘Cause if not, I’m gonna fuckin’ stomp you to death See, out in the East you can talk that talk But if you talk that talk in the West You leave like Flava Flav, just another skinny little black faggot gettin’ clocked in his chest Then he said I’m like Slim Shady! I’m tryin’ to be Slim Shady Just for saying that you’re gonna end up demolishing yourself Bro, that whole part you were talking about, I didn’t know if you were referring to me or talking about yourself ‘Cause ain’t nothing worse in the world Than that track that you did with Stan What was it, the Four Horsies? You guys got back together back in Scribble Jam? Or was it at the Rap Olympics, fam? Either way, nobody fucking gives a damn! Aye, listen, bro! I pull it out and I snap it and click and BAM! Kinda like my gat already had an app for Instagram This motherfucker wants to take my ass to Dizneyland Sorry, Dad, I’ma scratch that, because I have a different plan How ’bout I take you to the ranch in Neverland And put you in a casket quicker than A thousand miligrams of Michael Jackson’s diprivan Fucker thought he was gonna come back and kill me Man, this motherfucker Canibus sucks! Besides, all it took back in the day Was two l’s and a cool J to roll Canibus up And since we in Cali, I’ma pour magazines in him That’s what I call a Canibus cup! But I’m just clownin’ with you You obviously a mark, don’t make this clown shit an issue I’ll rip your body apart, I’ll fire rounds from the pistol My shells are like the red ones from Mario Kart ‘Cause they follow you around ’til they hit you My guns gon’ feel like a merry-go-round once they ‘gainst you ‘Cause they gonna lift you four horsies Off the ground and then spin you That’s some crazy shit whenever you reach the top Let’s say right now you can fuckin’ take me on, yeah I’ve already got this region locked, bro, I am the King of the Dot You? Ooh… let me teach you something, bruh Let me teach you how to keep the spot You couldn’t, ‘cause your value in it would decrease the stock But this ain’t 2000 BC, I guess he forgot Mothafucka, you shouldn’t even talk; his old ass is probably still sitting here waiting for the beat to drop! You’re not even sharp, at least not enough for me Not enough for this league, I mean What good is marching on soft sand When you don’t have strong enough feet to walk on concrete? And your schemes are not built up To par with the top tiers we got Man, you should take it a little easy, pops ‘Cause you’re gettin a lil’ old, and out here people speed a lot Proceed with caution There ain’t no beat in this arena to cover up your cheesy bars I can visibly see your flaws Allowing me to use them as a weakness that I’m feeding off But the leading cause of beef that’s caused between us Is a missing link of not being able to think or ever be evolved See, it’s easy to see why he dissolved Because he’s a subspecies So even though everything we’re taught to believe revolves Around us being engineered human beings We’re clearly not, because seeing people like him breathin’ Are the real reasons I don’t believe in God And if there’s like a one in a fucking six billion chance that my theory’s wrong? I put my cheese up on it That this idiot would completely defeat the odds You ain’t a thief that robs people ‘cause you evil, dog You a thief that robs people ‘cause you need a job You wanna eat? Then I beat you over the head With a piece of beef kabab And let you bleed across the street from Ross The same place you faggots buy your t-shirts off Homie, I will kill you as soon as the fucking needle drops Run outside, and have my homies let the heater off And blood will be fillin’ up the street, like it was Cedar Block You’re not strong enough to top your peak Just face it, you’ve aged and you’ve gotten weak You can no longer keep on pace with today’s top elites Not a cappella or on a beat. Stop blogging, please! If not at least while you still got a spot to keep You used to be a role model to all these geeks; even gangstas looked up to you like when a respected father speaks See, the problem is, to Hip-Hop, you are unique That’s why it also bothers me ‘Cause I feel like I’m putting my own dog to sleep Watchin’ the karma seep Watchin ‘him burn alive from the inside as the karma seeps From your eyes onto your rotten cheeks ‘Cause the Canibus we used to know Now is a shallow surface that’s far from deep And all that’s left for you at the end Is the nightmares that haunt your sleep Along with the psychological scars you keep as a product of the karma you’ve gotten from fucking over all your peeps So I don’t give a fuck! Homie, I get my G on I’m a real MC, mothafuckas, I get my free on So it makes sense that this mothafucka here Has this stupid ass sling on ‘Cause he’s never been a good shoulder to lean on … [Round 3: Canibus] Yo, that’s not what I would call Diz See, Diz is something different A faggot nigga tryin’ to make a living off of dissin’ He walk around spittin’ battle raps like he ill But he can’t avoid the fact, yeah, he do got skills 2012, I still spit that shit real niggas feel Why does 99% of you resemble Madd Illz? Too late, wipe that stupid look off your face […] lookin’ like that indian from Office Space Dizaster, just stop it! You tryin’ to battle on some pop shit You weak, and you sound like Andy Milanokis! Ayo, brother, I’m just here to tell you That God loves all his creations… except you And after tonight your battle rap career will be through Then I’ma hop into the back seat of your cab and ride The fuck you lookin at me for, Ali? Drive! This ain’t no regular battle, this about your intellectual power A cold blooded disrespect for an hour Genocide by drone strike, Dizaster’s bones in a cave He in the Strone Age, playing cee-lo with stone dice God put me here to eat shit and die! But when I made the infinite rhyme? He changed his mind But you? You just a funny guy With peanut-butter brown honey eyes; when I look into the windows of your soul, I don’t see much inside That’s why right here right now, June 9th, 06/06 Canibus gonna prove that Dizaster ain’t shit! Ayo, I stick dick to your moms Build a nuclear bomb and put it in her thong! I rediscovered Hip-Hop with my infinite rhyme I’ll even put the President back in office one more time I charge Oprah’s credit card And tell Barack to go long for another 90 yards Mothafucka, I’m a Hip-Hop god! 20 years and I still got job I’m sayin’ if you want change? Go wash them shit stains out your draws You immature fecal spore Got the nerve to say you a beast with the bars Don’t you still live with your moms? That’s right, dick in your mouth! Parents had to kick you out the house After that, you moved in with your spouse I can’t tell if you a deadbeat dad, or a red meat fag Or a greasy ass nasty piece of Lebanese trash # [Round 3: Dizaster] Yo! Let me just end this fuckin’ battle! If anymore of this shit’s gonna get postponed This mothafucka’s mad at me ‘Cause he’s always gettin’ his ho boned He said I live at home with my parents You’re right, I’m 28 and I live in a crib that I don’t own But that makes me more qualified to smoke Canibus Because I’ve always been home-grown Don’t be mad though, you lost to the MVP I will always still be the best emcee I’m just mad at you because I took all this time to prepare And you fuckin’ disrespected me You disrespected me, like you disrespected all You disrespected Pharoahe Monch You disrespected Wyclef, you hated on ’em all Anybody doing more than you You preyed and you waited on their fall That’s why I ain’t speakin’ for me, I’ma say this for us all That’s why Hip-Hop has forsaken you And here you don’t deserve a place at all But in the restroom next to the toilet, hanging by the stall But you don’t even deserve to hang there either ‘Cause I can still find more appreciation On the piss stains that are on the wall You had a legendary cypher With DMX, Big Pun and Mos Def, my dude Yeah, that shit is true, we seen it online, it got plenty of views But the problem with that is That you said you deserved to go last out of all of them What makes you think you credible or even legible to? ‘Cause 10 years have passed, and the evidence proved That them three did more for Hip-Hop Individually than you ever could do So I don’t want you to get mad Let this just be a lesson to you; to act selfish in a cypher is something that’s hella self-centered to do But you’re Canibus… it’s okay You get a pass ‘cause it’s expected from you You think you’re bigger than Pun? Pun is a legend, my dude He’s a worldwide icon that’s sold more records And he’s more respected than you You? You’re just a homeless man On the corner holdin’ a can beggin’ for food Just accept it! You’re through! Accept that you were never accepted Instead you just do some extra reckless shit and just prove You will always be a liability to anybody that’s invested in you Just ask Wyclef! He’ll tell you like the rest of them dudes Your album flopped when it dropped, so you stabbed him in the back because you couldn’t get it to move When you should’ve said thank you to him ‘Cause he’s the one that helped you improve Wassup, M80? Where you at, you pathetic Jew? Together you are like fucking tumors In the business, that needs to get removed Everyone that you ever did business with to help your music in the end is getting screwed, yourself included! What about all the efforts and attempts that you did to get us sued because some shit in the contract was left excluded? Yeah, don’t believe nothing he’s saying! If you do then your head’s polluted; this is why he’s a disrespectful piece of shit and he’s getting executed I don’t wanna hear about how ur presence helps the movement; it’s more like an infection to it You ain’t here for us, you’re here to fuckin’ sell some units How you gonna help us when you haven’t even showed no sign of self-improvement? Just the same old, pathetic, under-developed human Who never went through evolution I mean, this dude is stone age! Why try to relate with him? I should go on MySpace to find him a primate To go on a blind date with him ‘Cause in his mindstate, that would be the prime mate for him! He’s a chrome magnum man A homosapien bipedal and shell, with the brain missin’ The way that he reacts, he has strange thinkin’ The way he displays rhythm He’s so ancient, I can’t even communicate with him It’s like he has the most important strand of human DNA missin’ So it has nothing to do with racism When I say I see the ape in him I’ll stab you in your fuckin’ eyes With a giant identical set of forks To Poseidon’s, or the type of forks that Lucifer pitches Inside of the fires in Hell that scorch When I’m rhyming, I’m at the center core Of a high-pressure reservoir of eternal fire that’s strong enough to survive behind Heaven’s door And if you stay alive, I’ma keep firin’ with the rifle Like I’m tryin’ to set the record storm Your body will show up at a fuckin beach somewhere dead You can finally rest a shore/assure! This mothafucka has spent his whole life on a message board He’s always on the net; this guy’s like a tennis court I mean, the crease above your eyes look like vinyl record warps You look like some time of Kenyan dwarf Collided with a virally infected I Am Legend corpse Spliced with the fuckin’ DNA of the alien from Splice Or some other type of genetic source That was developed directly inside of the Umbrella Corp You killed the crowd, no one wants to even react no more! What you actin’ like a fuckin faggot for? So I’ma end it with this last scheme… Everything that he did was toally fucking wack and was overhyped Your fucking deposit for this battle was totally overpriced But it’s worth it knowing that we can go home at night Knowing some lunatic named Germaine Williams doens’t own the rights, ‘cause if he did he would probably attach the footage to the back of a radioactive protocol device Or something else that completely never existed Like his military soldier stripes Who gives a fuck if “so and so” sold their soul for ice? You’re becoming more of an attention whore With every metaphor you write This motherfucker’s terrified of anybody that’s 5’9″ ‘Cause it reminds him of Royce’s height When you get killed in a battle, you’re supposed to fight What are you, like 40, right? All you did was burn bridges like Usher, you’re the corny type You blackballed yourself into the horizon With Benzino riding with you on the back of the motorbike Have you seen that tattoo on his arm? LL hates him, of course he’s hype This motherfucker couldn’t beat him in a battle So he turned around and literally stole his mic So how the fuck are you gonna call J. Cole “J. Clone” Callin’ him a clone, despite knowing that the only tat on your arm showing ain’t even your own prototype Homie, it’s over! Go home, goodnight! You wanna threaten LL and show up to the video with Mike But we’re all thinking, of course you roll with Mike You and him are both alike, ‘cause judging by that tattoo Both you faggots were born to bite! Yeah, so he’s gonna talk about how I choked And didn’t own the fucking moment, right? He’ll probably mention some shit He didn’t, but I’ma still own him, right? Ayo, this motherfucker shouldn’t be mad at me ‘Cause I’m the one who helped him walk back toward the light I’m the one that showed him what real hope is like Yeah, I’m the one that gave him a chance After the industry already disowned him twice They fuckin’ left him, they controlled his life So I don’t give a fuck if I choked up in a battle or if I froze that night, ‘cause Canibus over here fuckin’ choked in LIFE! Nobody wants to hear anymore So I’ma shoot to this fuckin’ faggot I’ll pull out a Bazooka and shoot him While he’s moving through traffic I’m an Islamic suicidal, cuckoo fanatic I’ll put Canibus in a box, and LL Cool J’s a FAGGOT!] |
FAQ
- Who is the person responsible for producing the lyrics of Canibus Vs Dizaster?
This lirics prodiucer by Organik.
- Can you name the individual who created this track? Canibus Vs Dizaster
Canibus Vs Dizaster song lyrics is written by Canibus & Dizaster
- Who featured the lyrics Canibus Vs Dizaster?
The artist featured in the credits for Canibus Vs Dizaster is Canibus & Dizaster
