Closer to God - Chino XL

Dear rap game, you’re so wack, we feel like suing you

Niggas dressed up, nowhere to go like atheists at they funerals

My revolution’s beyond musical, my violence on auto-pilot

I can’t be morally neutral or silent to the truth you coward

I fire out of control

Much different than the human resources department at your job letting you go

The V for Vendetta vet, showing your fickle fans that

You’re garbage in every category and in categories that ain’t even invented yet

I’m feeling wild lately

I don’t know how to die, kill you, you can educate me

I’m back when the game is horrible

I stepped right out of Stan Lee’s imagination, Chino is a living Marvel

I smoke stems with niggas that’s sinning, won’t bend

Leave you between a rock and a hard place like Stonehenge

I can count on one hand rappers I’m greater than, but wait a minute

Only if there’s a calculator in it, the number’s so infinite

I spit it, authentic, arsenic, acidic

So committed I should be committed, I’m tired of being counterfeited

The Lyric Jesus never smile

Keep it super ugly like a Forest Whitaker and Whoopi Goldberg love child

Outrageous, cops racist, frown and smile tazers

My eyes burning from the salt with the tears of a thousand angels

I wanna topple the nation crazed in the Fist of Fury

I spit it ice cold, no refrigeration necessary

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God

Drop an ill verse, verbal assault

Lyrical, genius

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God

Every rhyme I write, closer to God

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God

Yeah, yeah, it’s time to melt down your debit card

Welcome to my demented mind, blood is the cover charge (yeah)

Fuck around I will destroy thee

Retarded like a lot of movie theatre employees

Murder everything, end of discussion

Gained attention like an Amber Rose wardrobe malfunction (yeah)

Video ass-whippings, your homie’s like «You seen this?»

His snotbox busted, I don’t mean containers of Kleenex (get ‘em)

You wish you weren’t involved with the horror

I pull the revolver tomorrow, your people holding candlelight vigils for ya

Gorilla suplex a nigga off of a tall building

Stab him in his face at the bottom, make sure I’ve killed him

Hold fire like Prometheus, diction deviant

My flow the freakiest like the daughters of Southern white racist preachers is

The beast’ll smash in the speakers to pieces

When I spit a sequence elitist-ly fiendish you’ve never experienced previous

See me breed a phoenix that could bleed a phoenix to the deepest

Reaches where your feet is 'til you’re in dire need of orthopedics

The cast of The First 48 is askin questions

It’ll take three episodes for them to find your severed midsection

They never seen such savagery, my angry energy

Have nucular reactors look like triple-A batteries

No experiment, my pen’s a hero to heroines

Sick like Reese Witherspoon with a spoon cooking up some heroin

I sin but I’m tryna escape this base bondage

I’m garbage, breathing, burning lakes of lava and carnage

Hip-Hop's in crisis but my veins contain Christ nitrous

So precise it says Lyric Jesus on my driver’s license

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God

Drop an ill verse, verbal assault

Lyrical, genius

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God

Every rhyme I write, closer to God

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God

I often, beat a crippled man with his own cane

Far from, close to being emotionally sane

Caution, sick criminals lurk in the terrain, Gotham

I have the most abnormal tolerance to pain, monster

Chino XL but they call me Santo Sangre

Here’s some trivia, my derivative lineage is straight from the Virgin Mary

Scary when the muzzle flash

Flash tear through your abs like fake Chinatown Gucci bags

I got a terrible cerebral verbal virus

Neuroleptic narcotics, my hand’s so shaky I can barely write this

Light this, angel dust got me loopy

All after Thought like a Roots groupie

You bet your life that what I write is mega-trife

And better than getting head from your hated archenemy’s pregnant wife

I constantly conquer the conquerors with cocky confidence

Chino the ominous will mollywop the populous

Where them guns you supposedly holding and toting?

I’m placing coins over both of your eyes for the Devil’s totem

Bullets discharge and get lodged to your chest like a corsage

While I’m hitting your squad with a force of Thor, that’s the Norse god

Flesh wounds color like a collage, witness your corpse fried

You hear more cries than when the lead singer of The Doors died

RICANstruction stomping like Sasquatch

‘Til my heart stops pumping like Dick Clark’s

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God

Drop an ill verse, verbal assault

Lyrical, genius

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God

Every rhyme I write, closer to God

Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God