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Don't Say A Word (Chino XL)

[Chrous] (Don't say a word) just let me get mines (Don't say a word) just relax and recline (Don't say a word) I'm the king of ill lines (Don't say a word) and all my groupies and dimes (Don't say a word) keep it quiet, yo, don't say a word, son (Don't say a word) keep it quiet, yo, don't say a word, yo (Don't say a word) keep it quiet, son, don't say a word, yo (Don't say a word) keep it quiet, son [Verse 1] Yo, I'm rap's dirty little secret that they try to keep quiet Till you dropped off your label and your A&R fired But real niggas like "That's Chino, fuck around, he gonna burn ya" For real, I'm like a dead body coming for its murderer Shit, you seen Chino lately? You gotta see him What you get to make an album, I get in one day's per diem Go 'head and live careless Five years from now you'll be explaining to your childrens what welfare is I'm anxious to explain to my babies why Daddy famous I keep womens mad 'cause I'm prettier than they is An old man, when they ask what you did when you was young You'll say you hated Chino XL and carried a real big gun (No more starvin') I seen more evolution than Charles Darwin Mental revolution with physical attributes of Tarzan I fold more papers than origami, playing you like Stymie I'm feeling like an autograph, so many dream of signing me Vocab extensive and glossy Expose a flow so expensive it could drain a small Latin country's economy Commit a verbal sodomy with a dime on Sodom who shot at me(?) Rappers claiming original, but sounding just like Nas to me Odds are getting dropped my me, high like Pras in Haiti's Rips fully laced like Madonna wardrobe in the '80s Museum is where they place these on the mount You can hate me now, but you'll write with your left hand like Steve Stoute Shut your mouth [Chorus] [Verse 2] Yo, hey Detroit! Show me some love Straight out of Jersey to the Slum Village I lyrically pillage at a high percentage And you critics keep your mouths in it like you questioned by the feds My talent barely recognized like Kravitz without his dreads Sprinkle my ashes all over Big Lez after I die 'Cause Chino been the illest since I was juvenile, ha I make cash money, click, go to .380, put you in torment Trigger finger got the realest frequent flyer mileage on it I'm coming in the club, keep women pulling on my clothes, froze I'm the lyrical debt, everyone I C-E-Os/see-he-owes The illest of flows they fear, 'cause no rapper could stop me I'm putting their careers on life support like Jody Watley's I'm tired of S-curls, guest appearances and wack tours You should've named your last album "What The Fuck For?" I hope you ain't spitting them tough writtens out your mouth Stay quiet like you Shan when KRS was in the house Don't say a word [Chorus] [Verse 3] I been rhyming since 1986, when R&B wasn't feeling us No rap on Soul Train, motherfuck Don Cornelius Now they all loving us after all that we been through You still think I shouldn't have no beef like a Hindu? I listen and laugh at your CD with my crew Sound like being a fake me is better than being a real you (Yo, is that it?) Hell naw, nigga, got more to tell I ain't feel your albums like I swam in Orajel XL an artist you can't control Have MCs changing release dates like they're prisoners denied parole Yeah, I used to rock for props and not the dollar amounts Climbed the ladder of success leaned against the wrong house Fake criminals, you so unfortunate Only bid you ever did was on my old Lexus after I auctioned it See me in the street and, straight bitch up Keeping they mouth closed like they lips stitched up Don't say a word [Chorus 2x] Shhhh...