In Common (feat. Canibus)

Yo, get the fuck back!
 You got a liar and a thief
 Combined with a beast from the east...
 What the fuck you thinks gonna' happen?
 Canibus! Let em' Know!
 Yo!
 Canibus and Diabolic get busy when we rhymin'
 That's what we got in common
 Yo, yo, yo, yo
 I know how far this could go
 But I'm not willing to go far, as long as you know
 I'd rather dump you off of the speed-boat
 Your trench coat float, while you bleed slow, you already know!
 I check my P.O. Box with a robot
 I got a ammo can in the corner full of old Glocks
 Aight breathe, adjust to the beat
 Adjust to the speed of Canibus the MC
 The library of binary, words I rhyme surprise many
 But few realize, if any
 You navigate through a constellation of bars
 If it does not madden, you will be a god
 If it does not sadden, then you will be awed
 But they are on their way to capture you so be on your guard
 The world I live in is different from the world you been in
 But I stay committed and still spit it
 The microphone is psychotic object
 Those who don't spit hot shit will get shocked and drop it
 I'll be there in the morning to collect your belongings
 If I have to knock more than once, you'll be sorry
 The door sign reads: enter or die
 That's when I wrote the hundred thousand bar rhyme
 So ask Canibus, he ain't understanding this
 Cause ninety nine percent of his fans ain't shit
 And ninety nine percent of his fans didn't think
 That ninety nine percent of the planet can't spit
 But Diabolic 'bout to show you how we handle this
 Diabolic and Canibus, sample this
 Yo
 Ladies rock your body, while 'Bolic cocks a shottie
 And pops these prima donnas posing for the paparazzi
 If not I'll prolly hop inside a stolen Maserati
 Goin' kamikaze like a pilot sent from Nagasaki
 That's why doctors got me on some anti-psychotics
 My logic's if I die, 'Bolics sales sky-rocket
 This high wattage made corpses rise from pine boxes
 With the fire in their eye sockets like they Cyclops's
 By god this man lost his damn mind, and
 Buried his head in the sand to plant some landmines
 I worry the feds had planned to scan our land lines
 Instead mankind embrace fags who can't rhyme
 So for the last time I refuse to rap, it's worthless
 Til I land a better deal than the Louisiana Purchase
 My purpose is to scratch the surface til a crack emerges
 Afterwards its stuffin' bitches like a taxidermist
 And I'm glad my sperm is drippin' through your bitches panties
 Til she barefoot and pregnant sifting through my kitchen pantry
 My daughters nine, dad living like a vigilante
 Kiss the family, huntin' pedophiles trickin' kids with candy
 In other words, those who dare touch what he treasures
 Sleep better than Heath Ledger beneath a dream catcher
 So I suggest you pray the G.O.D bless ya'
 Like a good Muslim on his knees facing east Mecca