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diabolic – in common lyrics

[intro: diabolic]
yo, get the f-ck back! you got a liar and a thief combined with a beast from the east. what the f-ck you think’s gonna happen? canibus, let em’ know!

[hook: canibus and diabolic] (x4)
canibus and diabolic get busy when we rhymin’
and that’s what we got in common

[verse 1: canibus]
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 a psychotic object
those who don’t spit hot sh-t 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 sh-t
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

[hook: canibus and diabolic] (x4)
canibus and diabolic get busy when we rhymin’
and that’s what we got in common

[verse 2: diabolic]
yo, ladies rock your body while ‘bolic c-cks 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, ‘bolic’s 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 d-mn 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 f-gs 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 it’s stuffin’ b-tches like a taxidermist
and i’m glad my sperm is drippin’ through your b-tches panties
’til she barefoot and pregnant, sifting through my kitchen pantry
my daughter’s nine. dad’s 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

- diabolic lyrics

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