Oh No - Closer to God lyrics

[Verse 1] Dear rap game, you're so whack, we feel like suing you n***as 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 (nah) 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 (Yeah) I'm feeling wild lately I don't know how to die, k** 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 n***as 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 (it's crazy) I spit it, authentic, arsenic, acidic So commited I should be commited, 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 [Hook] Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God Every rhyme I write, gettin' closer to God Drop an ill verse, verbal a**ault 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 [Verse 2] Yeah, yeah, it's time to melt down your debit card Welcome to my demented mind, blood is the cover charge (yeah) f** 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 a**-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 n***a off of a tall building Stab him in his face at the bottom, make sure I've k**ed him (die!) 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 (crazy!) 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 h**nes Sick like Reese Witherspoon with a spoon cooking up some h**n I sin but I'm trying to 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 [Hook] [Verse 3] 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 (okay) 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 (got me loopy) All after Thought like a Roots groupie (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 co*ky confidence Chino the ominous will mollywop the populous (yeah!) 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 (crazy!) RICANstruction stomping like Sasquatch ‘Til my heart stops pumping like Dick Clark's [Hook]