Canibus - Who Shot Ya Freestyle lyrics

I'm faster than leopards running across the vast desert At 22 yards per second to catch me the daily delicatessen With 30 minutes to eat 'em, 40 minutes to digest 'em And 50 minutes for it to pa** through my intestines So ask yourself a question: Can the Canibus rhyme? Is a f**in porcupine half swine? No time to make up your mind, you wanna run or die? Clip you while you running by, trip you up from behind My rhymes confuse n***as like somebody tryna g**n Wearin a blue shirt and red pants Throwin up signs with their left hand, standin out on the corner at Wetlands with a confederate flag for a headband God damn eggplants, y'all gettin me vexed man Cause I'm surrounded by garbage like Fred Sanf And I can't seem to get away from it, I dreamt that I stabbed Leviathan through the stomach and ate from it In my past life I slayed hundreds, in the life before that I played trumpets to warn you that I was comin There's one billion ways to die and I already tried Nine-hundred million nine hundred and ninety nine When I aim and fire my rhymes like a hundred cannon balls flying Striking you one at a time in a parallel line While the art of emceeing is steady dying Canibus and Journalist bringin the rhyme You against me.. No contest My tongue hydraulics Strong enough to flip a 64 Impala with 3 adult pa**engers And a 400 pound driver And drown you in less than an ounce of your own saliva Rubberface rappers get, stretched like elastic Claymation characters wit verbal vernacular Slappin' ya, like a white water rafter Or a Olympic kayaker, paddlin' across the Niagara My afterburners'll be burnin' you after Ya' body already been splashed with acid And you turn to ashes Assa**ins camouflaged in the gra** blastin' Leavin' blood all over ya' lady like Jackie Ona**is I'll fly ya' body outta Dallas Perform plastic surgery while we airborne and switch caskets Then lie to the ma**es I'll tell'em that you got murdered over some East West beef, between rappers Radio stations'll express they sadness Play cla**ics back to back and pa** out "Stop The Violence" pamphlets Just imagine, every night ya' girls screwing ya' best friend While you in hell throwin' tantrums I'll be lampin' in a mansion somewhere out in the Hamptons Givin' some pretty a** b**h a spankin' n***a you can't win I'm laughin' cause you a has been You can't get ya' groove back So don't even bother askin' Angela Ba**ett You just get ya' a** kicked Get ya' head chopped off and dropped in a basket My left arm's taken but my right one's free That means I could diss another muthaf**in' emcee Wit rhymes that appear clearer than liquid crystal My lyrical is more visual than television screen pixels I fire pistols, hit you wit' miniature missiles Riddle ya' body wit' holes then watch the blood sprinkle Ya probably had no idea what you was gettin' into On the mic, Can-I-Bus is invincible Yo, yo, ayo, nobody can flow with Bis, rock a show with Bis Or go toe to toe with Bis, none of y'all can coexist We livin' in an Ice Age and its cold as sh** A hundred thousand dollar price range, n***as is frozen stiff All I know is this, my felt tip hotter than hell get A hundred eighty-six thousand miles per sec can melt flesh Give a n***a a tan Aerosol cans expand and explode in my hand While I promote that new Canibus jam n***as feel it underground with stalactites hangin' from the ceiling Live and direct The illest emcee, and I possess the ability To run at top speeds without bending my knees I destroy sh**, pinpoint astroids at orbit Then hurl y'all thousands of miles per hour towards it Goddamn heathens, grab my hands around your neck region Then i start squeezin till you stop breathin' You weaklins is playin tug-of-war wit ya tongues I knock the teeth out ya gums and s** the breeze out ya lungs Hit ya wit a blow your physical frame could never sustain You'll probably never walk ever again n***a, you think you rhyme sick? i leave you lyin stiff Pull you behind my horse til i break ya spine, b**h Stop cryin b**h, before i hit ya wit the iron fist You can't rhyme b**h, the one triple nine's mine b**h The pain'll make ya voice change octaves From low-pitched to high-pitched, every hour we k** a hostage We judge mc's by they lyrical fitness And punish dj's for puttin corny stickers on they mixes Smack the stripper b**hes for askin for my autograph and pictures You'll be scared to leave the club wit us You stratch my back, i'll scratch your's b**h I'll eat ya salt-fish, if ya s** my sausage I got an atomic sub, armed wit a sub-atomic scud Ready to spill ya crimson-colored blood Now on some battling sh**, my verbal lateral grip Keeps my tongue glued to the A-Dat when I'm tracking em swift Let my spit lubricate the chap on my lips And make you rappers have fits cause I'm back in the mix f** a pad and a pen, write rhymes on a IBM Ebonics is dead, the binary language is in Canibus practices in a room with a thousand candles lit Meditating on this rap sh** Because my freestyle reigns sovereign With a deeper conscience than the prophet Muhammad was born with My brain cavity is enormous My left hemisphere alone harnesses all of the seven chakras While the right one harnesses darkness The type of dark that makes a house haunted The type of dark that n***as get lost in The type of dark you fear when you dead in the coffin I hear you talking, but I ignore it Cause it's garbage and your rhyme's boring So keep standing on the corner The trash man will collect you in the morning Thug cats fronting, wacker than Blinky Blink On the back of the wack a** Wagon babbling about nothing Nah black, real hoodrats can get it on black Meet me at The Tunnel where p**y cats get robbed at Rubber face rappers get stretched like elastic claymation characters with verbal vernaculars Slappin' ya, like a white water rafter Or a Olympic kayaker, paddlin' across the Niagara Fake emcees haul a** like they running track Wherever canibus or rakim at