Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Eye, 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
Eye |
| I know it gets no better than this |
| When I’m on my Detroit, New Jersey, Los Angeles shit |
| That’s it |
| I have a whole crowds pumping their fist |
| Feeling like it when we was kids |
| It’d be bliss |
| If I had one wish |
| I’d have Proof and J. Dilla both back in this bitch |
| I miss |
| You let the weed smoke flow from your chest |
| And thank God that hip hop exists |
| When I spit |
| And now back with a vengeance |
| But you’se like Oprah Winfrey with a thousand stedmans |
| Break you open like a graving, picking up the dead mens |
| Blessed making a living, my show’s an essence |
| Having lots of women in attendance |
| Listening to this murdereous creature infecting all time itself |
| Just with my vibe assistance |
| Please don’t try this at home |
| Drums sounding like Hannibal’s elephants marching on their way to conquering |
| Rome |
| And the patriots saying in vain giving a fuck what a hater think |
| Wiping your ass like Marvin Gaye’s dad when he was cross-dressing drank |
| Leaving a residue with death and destruction in this edifice |
| Clipping the wings of Pegasus |
| Restlessness from the absence of a trusted mother’s gentleness |
| Cash (?) stash stick it in Burt Reynold’s shit |
| Monsterous, no conscienceness |
| Collabing with the ghost of rappers |
| I’ve killed that death hasn’t been fast enough to process yet |
| Throwing pictures at moving cars like wushu man |
| It’s all fun and games until it’s Chino versus planet |
| I’ll push a baby to the desert and watch her lungs expand |
| Filling up with sand |
| Shaking like radioation that’s leaking from Japan |
| Paying for my karmic death |
| Like Christians in the Colosseum singing while lions tearing them to shreds |
| It’s colder than Pittsburgh, the spics disturbed |
| The women whisper, it’s Mr. Disappearing with your sister |
| Prepare to be in the air when Gabriel’s horns blows |
| But Malakai ain’t got nothing on the evil under this cornrolls |
| Your cars spinning with chrome, not a significant gold |
| I’m guiding the flesh with flows like the Vatican chose |
| Your frailed (?) nose gets finished and explosed |
| Get exposed sitting on a Venice throne of skinning scolds |
| Chino is back, and it’s the illest situation |
| It’s like the second coming of Christ, and every Latino celebrating |
| Still carrying them cyanide capsuls |
| Recolada, I’m beating that ink outta your tattoos |
| The bonafide Hesus, divine statue |
| Got a love for hip-hop that could never be lost |
| Even if it ignores me like the media ignored slavery and Armenian holocaust |