Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Anything, artist - Chino XL. Album song RICANstruction: The Black Rosary, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 24.09.2012
Record label: Messiah
Song language: English
Anything |
| (Long, long, long look away |
| Long, long, long look away) |
| I don’t owe you anything |
| I don’t owe you anything |
| Locked in a hospital, a dead nurse with big tits and slit wrists |
| Tried to administer me pills but I resist |
| I’m dangerous as crocodiles outta tanks |
| You don’t need my DNA strands to recognize my killer traits |
| I lost my mind, I’m haunted by the words that I’ve invented |
| To the point, they’re feeding me glasses of NyQuil with my dinner |
| I associate the infliction of pain with pleasure |
| Frequently insult my neighbors wearing blood stained leathers |
| People that never visit insist that I owe 'em shit |
| I’m repeatedly takin' Rohypnol and praying I don’t exist |
| Damn near wanna throw a party off exhilaration |
| That I get from squeezin' the life out of a human body shaking |
| I’m a happening waiting to accident, blessed sacriment |
| Festering blasphemist, transient arrogant acrobat |
| Riding camelbacks under circus tents, nervous off Percocets |
| Possessed laughs till I’m at Bernie Mac’s funeral services |
| You’ve got mental problems, I’m sure |
| It’s just that mine is greater |
| At least you have honor to live in the time I put ink to paper |
| Over 10,000 hours of labor, limitless |
| An undeniable perfectionist that plagues the souls of lyricists |
| Hand me a scalpel I’ll scribble scribes on your face |
| I make people run, that’s why they call it the human race |
| XL campaign, don’t owe you a damn thang |
| Tear a turtles head off, drink blood out of shells like canteens |
| I can’t scream, I got the metal machines ready |
| Forever holding my piece like I’m not objecting at a wedding |
| Was manufactured in Heaven to be a horid tourist |
| Placed specifically on Earth, quantuum leaps over other artists |
| Dirty my name, the seeds of discontent were planted |
| That’s grounds for murder, I’m stoned, you took me for granted |
| Damn it, you think I owe you something, get it in blood |
| Rick James last words, «Chino's verse is a hell of a drug» |
| Get me out of here |
| I just needed some time to get my mind right |
| Then it’s back to these bitches yelling «Go Daddy» like the website |
| Run away don’t cross me |
| You won’t be able to walk through your house without tripping over some dead |
| offspring |
| I’m getting stressed by the government |
| Don’t even write my name down unless it has «Paid To The Order» in front of it |
| Budgeted, trying to feed your family is real |
| Gas prices looking bigger than the numbers on Adele’s bathroom scale |
| My skills internal and running wild |
| I could eat a Rubik’s Cube and shit it out completely solved |
| I vowed my foundation is built with brick and mortar |
| Destroying peers like a tsunami tearing through a harbor |
| Consistantly ill, but still industry overlook me |
| Officially, something’s fishier than mermaid pussy |
| I hate you with a perfect hate and nothing less |
| Last seven words: |
| The best ever from the best yet |