Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Beastin', artist - Chino XL. Album song Poison Pen, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 30.10.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: ACTIVATE ENTERTAINMENT
Song language: English
Beastin' |
I do chin-ups of a niggaz bars, killin’off whole squads |
It’s those gone off the line of scrimmage |
Beginners are finished, I’m relentless |
My spit game injures, I’m the ninja |
Blow on trees like winters |
In the centre, keep a sinister smile |
with the dillinger like John Wilkes Booth |
My palm still shoots ink, leavin’rappers in stink |
Pullin’gats out my mink, clap where you think |
I go from God Body to Godzilla to God forgive him |
'Til I hope God is with him |
If not I spit jack, think witch dreams |
Of automatics, M-16s, submachines |
Slugly screams of blood |
Clear out clubs, air out mugs, put wings on thugs |
It’s your screams I love |
I sample them, put on 'em on Pro Tools |
And Ad-lib 'em with vocals, Killah Priest |
The type of rappers that be Beastin’x2 |
My saliva’s lava, the wicked anomalous scholar |
The author composin’your broken bones into an orchestra |
Burn in Heaven, no weapon can harm me These homos been in the closets so long I’ma donate them to Salvation Army |
Calmly tearin’ya flesh like the claws of a falcon |
Write songs 'til my wrist develops Carpal Tunnel Syndrome |
And there’s no feelin’in my right thumb, my knuckles white and numb |
You should see the muscular development in my forearms |
I’m swarn human heron from here on Consider Chino XL a monster, fuck Charlize Theron |
You cling on to life like a skinny Luther |
I’m like an aircraft carrier goin’to war with a Mini Cooper |
Gettin’used to being crazy |
as a double jointed female doctor bent over, delivering her own baby |
Anti-Medical, non-preventable |
Make you and a dead man identical |
Sallow arms are well armed like an octopus |
Medical bust, penny you trust, non of you |
I’m the murdering minister when God is upset at you |
Right on schedule, calligraphers spit a comprehensible |
Poison Pen always the illest, today he’s exceptional |
Slayin’professional between big deals |
I get jobs at McDonalds and throw cyanide pills into kids meals |
I slaughter individuals, throw rappers through windshields |
Slice them from ear to ear 'til they breathin’out of fish scales |
Every lyricist kneels to my internal, incurable inferno |
I beat a niggaz haircut into crop circles |
Hear the smotherless pain |
Be the main attraction in a circus how I can juggle your jugular vein |
I stumble and aim if you merely just mumble my name |
Crumple your fame, cripple ya fangs |
Isn’t it strange it doesn’t change I’m a beast |
The hungriest rapper alive pickin’human flesh out of my teeth |
You get shot in the streets or in sentences like Mystikal |
Don’t even call rap rap no more, call it Chino XL |