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Artist: Chino XL
Album:  RICANstruction: The Black Rosary
Song:   Have 2
Typed by: 

[Chino XL]
These rappers sayin lines I never quote
They faker than them letters that Solar be claimin that Guru wrote
I wanna slit they throat and go berserk and stab kids
I'm underground and don't give a fuck who Rebecca Black is
Distributin these knuckles straight across your glass chin
I will Manute Bol a nigga, I put 'em in a long casket
The monster spitter that's sinister as a witch's cacklin
H1N1 off my tongue but there is no vaccine
I'm brash and nocturnal and graphic like a whore's journal
So I ain't gotta rhyme 'til I'm turnin purple to murk and serve you
I get more checks than my esse homie Stermal
When I clear you out early like a Jonas Brothers curfew
You try to sue the hospital, couldn't be saved by breathin tubes
Jesus wearin a t-shirt that's sayin "What Would Chino Do?"
I'm here to seal your doom, XL is a problem
You will never see me comin/cummin like a camouflage condom
The true villain, never through killin
My haters are just big fans, should be spinnin on my bedroom ceiling
But Chino got ammo for every coward that's hated him
and a trigger finger that's twitchin like Muhammed Ali's brainstem

[Chorus: Chino XL]
I don't wanna hurt you but I will if I have to
I don't wanna hurt you but I will if I have to!
I don't wanna hurt you but I will if I have to~!

[Chino XL]
It's uncanny how many are ready to end me
I deserve Emmys and Grammys and plenty of pennies
And these pretty Chevys on hydraulics, verses like they're on anabolics
Makin rappers cry like babies when they got the colic
These artists wanna be me bad
If imitation is the highest form of flattery then my raps should be as flat as Paris Hilton's ass
I'm tryin to bring light-skinned back
But El DeBarge can't keep his path out of rehab
The Puerto Rican spic been sicker than Auschwitz
Since Noah's Ark was just a pile of woodchips
You think you're fabulous 'til the savages double barrellers
outside of yo' house and it's singin like Christmas carollers
I spit 'til I'm raspy, I'm sicker than Raz-B
when Chris Stokes, nah erase that shit it's fuckin nasty
You softer than Avril Lavigne, shootin shrapnal at the king
The madder rapper that'll shatter your bladder, matter and spleen
It's an animal thing and on your grave I will dance on
Your pussy CD will not go double tampon!


[Chino XL]
Yo, they try to mimic my energy, it ain't meant to be
Consider me Hannibal Lecter givin out food recipes
Your ass kicked and your path to the casket choose
Bastards rubbin me the wrong way like a bad masseuse
"RICANstruction" ain't an album, it's a murder exhibition
Sit back and turn the skeleton key into the ignition
Hold hands in a sťance, realize that the table's risen
In an industry that's frail and fuckin calcium deficient
Thank Heaven that the visionary +Poison Pen+ is back arisen
Fuckin every beat that I'm given in missionary position
My rhymes were not written for fame or to get rich
But therapeutically put my childhood in electric chair and hit the switch