Spit Sumthin (feat. Hoodizm, Sniper, Rapper K, Cl’ Che & Justice Allah) - K Rino

I stay focused, life’s all about balance

Success breeds ‘cause God gave me this talent

I never rode the bench, I always been a starter

And overtime gon' cost you more than four quarters

Big mouths I slap shut and slap nuts I vanquish

Flap them lips too much you’ll leave using sign language

Call me king ‘cause I wreck ‘em, polish ‘em with my septum

Trap ‘em when I catch ‘em, put motion sensors in they rectum

And then I send ‘em through so they can roam the blue

And you bet not call the police ‘cause every step you take I’ll be watching you

I’ll be watching you, I swear every step you take I’ll be watching you

Sick militant flow, like a carbine

Explicit with the lyrics, watch me blow like a time bomb

Soldier of fortune, no time for the outcome

SPC, where the hell Sniper come from?

H-Town, baby, no love for you busters

Regime too raw, that’s why they don’t love us

The Mexican patna reppin' SPC

Nobody in the game doing it like me

I’m surrounded by history, a legend in the making

K-Rino said homie that it’s mine for the taking

Can’t mess with the warriors, I’m bringing the pain

Snipe with the beast, militant mind-frame

Rapper K is the answer to the question of who is it

Got the call from the, flip my tongue like a lizard

Had no choice but to react when I first heard this track

Started jottin' down lines in the back of the Lac

Contemplating to myself, now where should I begin?

I’m headed to the lab, my phone rings, it’s K again

Said, «I'm giving you a heads-up, you better bring your A-game

‘cause GT just killed it and Sniper wasn’t playin'

I arrived at the lab and heard this sh*t, he wasn’t frontin'

Now I’m standing at the mic, I’m ‘bout to spit something

I’m ‘bout to shine, ‘bout to go for mine

I only got twelve lines, ah sh*t, I’m outta time

Cool game,

Not only hood, they internationally know my name

Cl' Che but you can call me Ms West

The only rap chick in South Park in the library history chest

SPC, SUC, you can run across me, legendary emcee

Every word in my lyrics done paid dues

Google me, baby, under the keyword «She's a «They hittin' me from Germany saying, «Cl' Che’s cool»

They can’t speak English but they rappin' every word I put in Pro Tools

Spit something or just repeat this, «She's a little mama and she’s a bad chick

Just as is Anakin Skywalker before transforming to Darth Vader

My pen takes the form of a lightsaber

We touching the paper, my thoughts condense from vapors

My neighbors savor the flavor like babies pacing in front of a pit filled with

alligators

When calibrating my brain, can’t remain unanimated

I allocated a heavy dose of pain, it’s navigated

Straight to your mainframe through the main vein

You strain in vain to maintain but can’t contain

The flame the God rained down with love for Abel but disdain for Cain

Who he labeled a murderer of his brother, which was unstable and deranged

But now we gang-bang and slang ‘caine

I’m a South Park assassin that’s sicker than straw fakers

Walk-ins are, take upon all takers

God bless you and your mama

When f*ckin' with Murder, you end up with multiple head trauma

I talk the talk, walk the walk

So ease on down the road end up in chalk

I have no preference who I devour, man

Me with a hundred round clip make it easy to shower man

Now whoever thought Murder One was a rowdy man

A everyday cat that runs with a rowdy clan

South Park Coalition is the name of this rowdy band

Murder One and I’m outie man

I spot moon rocks with my optics

Got subatomic harpoons and deadly monsoons in my pocket

I pause and start morphing

Inner body experience where I enter your body and crush organs

I think 'til the floor spins

I’m still bombing after the war ends, endorphins so strong they make swords bend

Live and execute a rough lyrics prolific shooter

In the womb receiving visions from my physics tutor

Once the beat ignites, no more MCs in sight

I’m from a planet where midgets are seven feet in height

I don’t let cowards speak plus my powers deep

Work for nine years in a row and recharge on a hour’s sleep

Officer Cartwheel, officer Cooper

Tuck your tails in when you see us on street, if not, we shoot ya

On your way to hell ‘cause heaven you never made it

Walk around in your shell ‘cause your soul’s been desecrated

Don’t slouch, keep my pistol in perfect pouch

Hit you when you in your Snuggie, sittin' on your curvy couch

Rhymes blow up, scar you in legions

Twisted metal travels to equatorial regions

Retaliation got a lot of remedies

One by one your family members erased like Kennedys

I’m a rapper slash producer slash terrorist

Slash illuminati grow from ear to ear, I’m the scariest

Out a playa know his mama planted the truth in me

And grew up so big 'til it popped, now it’s loose in me

Mind frame brain ain’t the same that it used to be

I rather live life than chase women and jewelry

Spit game came with a heavenly layer

beware, be everywhere

It ain’t no playin' with you, busters, I will shoot in the air

But instead of spittin' some bullets, I’ma spit you a prayer

Dear God, let ‘em ride, give ‘em where to survive

Leave 'em alive, even if he wishing I died

And dear God, let ‘em ride even if we collide

‘cause I know even when I’m wrong, I want you on my side

And that’s

Spittin' at you fools,

Kick down doors, go and stage

Seek the truth, gain self-knowledge

Educate yourself, as well as go college

Spit from the mind, spit to the beat

Spit from the heart, spit for those raised on the streets

Words transcribe onto paper without thinking

Some think they’re on top but I see ‘em sinking

I’m a spitter, old school tagger

Flows still sharp like a sharpened dagger

Climb the ladder from the gutter to the stage

Now I spit something just to earn my wage

It’s the return of

Class of '89, bloodline SPC

I’m a lyrical train-wreck, spot-rocker,

Slam dunk kind of flow

Shattered the glass in South Park but I was on the court in Tokyo

Half man, half silverback

Half of my opponent hanging out my mouth

I got an anaconda’s digestive tract

Assassin’s Creed hard when I spit

But so hard and jumped on my d*ck

rare breed of the SPC seed

signing out live from, yo

Uh, full block say goodbye when I spit something

That’s for ni**as left, we burn and get to dumpin'

That’s for ni**as thinking they chick won’t leave ‘cause a ni**a rich

But when, she got hooked on the bigger fish

I’m like the old school Wu, all about cream

Getting to the been like sippin' on lean

Gotta spit something, bringing out the team

Got enough drive for two and a half men, call me Charlie Green

I’m in the streets with that thing, I gotta get it right

You can dodge for so long like Eddie, my chopper Scary Spice

I leave the like a college grad

What I spit, ni**as catching bullets like a young Jerry Rice

Point Blank, the Southside OG

They know the real so they still keep they eyes on me

You might not see me on BET or things of that nature

Can’t get no play when ni**as at the radio station hate ya

One thing they can’t take from me is the streets

A lot of these pussies can’t be found in the streets

Yeah, like I’m all over

Call me AI when I hit the state-line and I crossover

I represent Texas like Vince, a boss like Prince, you can check my prints

You might see me in the club with some Lords and Bloods

Got a sherm flow motherf*ckin' enjoy the drugs

Wanna get high with the Blankster? F*ck that

The door closed, all you b*tch ni**as and you fake h*es

South Park Coalition, that’s us

Remember that when you start talkin' ‘bout Houston and don’t mention us

I’m suffering, my heart is in pain

I’m a madman ‘cause the whole world is insane

I read scriptures ‘cause decisions come too hard

Money, cash, currency — which is our true god?

Good or bad, right or wrong, life’s a seesaw

Sometimes the straight and narrow path has a detour

My mind clicks like a snare with a mob kick

Ideas spark like a high hat constant

The city breeze, the streets are a part of me

Danger don’t bother me, there’s ice water in my arteries

I mean-mug a alligator like he did something

Stared a cobra eye to eye, dared him to spit something

spit hot lava disperse

Rough like tryna quench a thirst

Must release a verse among the first

Clicked up fools puttin' up in a hearse

Pressure bust pipes where the sh*t done burst

These fools right here are the worst

Claim your turf, we claim the earth

Hardest clique b*tch from the birth

Only curse is spittin' the truth

Call the laws when in the booth

Soft ass h*es pray to live

This track missing one thing, AC Chill

Ni**as always ask me why I kick this psycho sh*t

I got a axe with ten blades that I might go get

If I explain it to you, ni**a, then you will get hit

Tell your mama it’s a black dress she needs to go get

When it sticks in, that motherf*cker makes me proud

Spray blood so thick and far it looks like a cloud

And I love ‘em so much that I named all ten

But I won’t say they names 'til they all go in and come out

The brains left for stains

And that’s the reason why I gave ‘em ten different names

Like Becky, Robert, Kevin, Michael and Drew

Keisha,, K-Rino, you name the last two uh

It all started

In the kitchen with a mission, tryna beat the competition

Treat it like a job so I can retire with a pension

Hit the block with a, four oz’s in my pocket

I’m outta control, you just can’t stop me

J. Water in this b*tch and I’m spittin' on the mic

And I promise that I can do it all night

Yeah motherf*ckin' ni**as, SPC

When you lookin' for that white girl, come see me

I’m a beast in these streets, monster in this motherf*ckin' game

When they call me, I let them bullets rain

No matter the consequences, I’m still here

Sippin' syrup, smoking' herb in the atmosphere, yeah, hahh

I politick when it come to spit these rhymes

Boy talkin' about my rep, man, ‘cause they ain’t got a style like mine

I’m the new generation, I got the remedy to rep

No disabilities, only the ability to snap

I’ll take words and abstract, you can call me analyst

Boy talkin' ‘bout they gon' run when they peters can’t even spit sh*t

Ni**as like the way I rip this, my tongue I flip it

Yeah they like the way I spit it

See, how many times have we done this, man?

How many clique songs have you heard over the years from the South Park

Coalition?

All the way down, slipped into a coma murder script

Name on a bullet, the original South Park Coalition

This what we do, man

So all the rappers around the world, y’all keep on makin' y’all clique songs,

man

Let’s keep this thing going, we can keep throwing

Keepin' that work in, mash on these tricks, yeah, haha, that’s it,

it ain’t enough room in this booth for all us