| I do chin-ups of a niggaz bars, killin’off whole squads
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| It’s those gone off the line of scrimmage
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| Beginners are finished, I’m relentless
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| My spit game injures, I’m the ninja
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| Blow on trees like winters
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| In the centre, keep a sinister smile
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| with the dillinger like John Wilkes Booth
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| My palm still shoots ink, leavin’rappers in stink
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| Pullin’gats out my mink, clap where you think
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| I go from God Body to Godzilla to God forgive him
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| 'Til I hope God is with him
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| If not I spit jack, think witch dreams
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| Of automatics, M-16s, submachines
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| Slugly screams of blood
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| Clear out clubs, air out mugs, put wings on thugs
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| It’s your screams I love
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| I sample them, put on 'em on Pro Tools
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| And Ad-lib 'em with vocals, Killah Priest
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| The type of rappers that be Beastin’x2
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| My saliva’s lava, the wicked anomalous scholar
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| The author composin’your broken bones into an orchestra
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| Burn in Heaven, no weapon can harm me These homos been in the closets so long I’ma donate them to Salvation Army
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| Calmly tearin’ya flesh like the claws of a falcon
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| Write songs 'til my wrist develops Carpal Tunnel Syndrome
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| And there’s no feelin’in my right thumb, my knuckles white and numb
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| You should see the muscular development in my forearms
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| I’m swarn human heron from here on Consider Chino XL a monster, fuck Charlize Theron
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| You cling on to life like a skinny Luther
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| I’m like an aircraft carrier goin’to war with a Mini Cooper
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| Gettin’used to being crazy
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| as a double jointed female doctor bent over, delivering her own baby
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| Anti-Medical, non-preventable
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| Make you and a dead man identical
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| Sallow arms are well armed like an octopus
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| Medical bust, penny you trust, non of you
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| I’m the murdering minister when God is upset at you
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| Right on schedule, calligraphers spit a comprehensible
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| Poison Pen always the illest, today he’s exceptional
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| Slayin’professional between big deals
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| I get jobs at McDonalds and throw cyanide pills into kids meals
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| I slaughter individuals, throw rappers through windshields
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| Slice them from ear to ear 'til they breathin’out of fish scales
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| Every lyricist kneels to my internal, incurable inferno
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| I beat a niggaz haircut into crop circles
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| Hear the smotherless pain
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| Be the main attraction in a circus how I can juggle your jugular vein
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| I stumble and aim if you merely just mumble my name
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| Crumple your fame, cripple ya fangs
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| Isn’t it strange it doesn’t change I’m a beast
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| The hungriest rapper alive pickin’human flesh out of my teeth
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| You get shot in the streets or in sentences like Mystikal
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| Don’t even call rap rap no more, call it Chino XL |