Don't Say A Word Lyrics - 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 I'll 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 

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[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 it's 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 

Photos 

[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...