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chronic – curbstomp lyrics


charlie muscle: this shit take me back man…

(verse 1: chronic)

i got a military shoulder mark
that puts me somewhere between joan of arc and napoleon bonaparte
i’m from the gr-ss roots
using music to get back in touch with peoples like a m-sseuse
you ain’t cleaning up. go back to stacking dishes
and you get sacked in minutes, plus ask your misses i ain’t lacking inches
nor lacking patience, i’m waiting with my breath bated
riding tracks and hoping they lead to the radio stations
inhale it-see i’m refreshing as a light breeze
cause i lyrically gave hip hops iv’s a tight squeeze
but you was giving it a lethal dose-
that’s why i’m sticking you for your rhyme book and using it as kleenex rolls
between us both i ain’t mean for it to come to dissing you-
y’all know with truth there’s the risk some will hiss and boo-
just pissed i’ll never battle big l we done been missing you
or eminem back when he was fun to listen to
and it makes no difference what happens i stand firm
i make your whole band squirm, schools out so this is slang term
and therefore f-ck a spelling checker
i make you vanish like penn and teller performing for helen keller
-i got glaives, ginsus, light sabres like mace windu
i run through put twenty poisoned blades in you
severing veins sinew organs bones and face tissue
sink my teeth in and chew until i taste gristle
saw your ford pinto parked fresh from the car rental
acted like a worthless gringo and smashed the window
left your car as a one wheeler-
you couldn’t handle chronic even if you was an actual drug dealer
there’s none realer, even if i ain’t the cat you probably heard a’
-maybe the reason is i don’t sound much like bobby schmurda
the hobbies murder, bodies thrown in the gutter
and to think i started rapping to get over my stutter
yesterday everybody was closing they shutters
tomorrow i’m paying the dollar that i owe to your mother
-see how in the moment that i start to rap-
you get respiratory arrest and a heart attack
shawty arch your back, i got the blue prints
to become a true prince the largest cat
sending bomb threats to congress, ,when i chart the map
i put my name on it claim chronic started from scratch
like a yeast infection, i’m the beast from the east direction
since birth felt a disconnection like my leads were stepped on
it’s why i’m hustling, chronic? you ain’t gon’ muzzle him
yo it’s time for charlie to muscle in…

(verse 2: charlie muscle)

check, you put a mic in front of me, and i’m beasting
a west coast resident who’s symptoms resembling lou ferrigno
anger in my every day and struggle in my every way
i’m fighting for the signs to say my life is more official
common knowledge isn’t too common for you – n-gg-
you thinking that my dollars the problem like you – richer
all the while inside this box i’m writing raps around the clock
i’m turning negatives to positives like developing pictures
i swear i reach my limits, every rapper is a critic
whose a talent scouting gimmick use that shit in any minute
they formulate sentence defying the laws of physics implying that all their lines will deliver apocalyptics
yo that’s bullshit – wait, did this pussy call me a peon?
i’d rather eat the pussy than walking round try’na be one
you cl-t-lipped son-of-a c-rp-t m-nch-r lesbian
that came to k!ll the raps like my lyrics resembled deacon

(verse 3: chronic)

everybody got they own walk of life
though mine happens at night when i stalk your wife
looking for a snack while holding a pocket knife
cause i been like big lurch on aurora since northern lights
i growl at y’all like a rottweiler with a chain on
drop fire like napalm over halong, so flame on
punchlines hit you like a cinder block
and so technical you should call me tec support-
extended stock-
i’s goliath and then ending up slinging rock
darwinian, surviving against the odds
cause ever since hanging lunch-bags on coat hooks
cats want a look at what i wrote in a notebook
the crowds applauding, f-ck it i’m causing a scene
(causing a scene?) why you think you can pause it on screen?
smush your a&r’s face in his tea tray, rap messiah
conceived from a 3 way with snow tha product and jean grae
and god, so you see i know my enemy like green day
rap need a remake so consider this the scene-take
for the record i’m here to set it straight
if i’m the first that you heard, everyone after sound second rate
so get your head in the game, and get in shape
i medicate, the lead i sprayed got rappers behind some yellow tape
result of a broke trojan wearing soaked brogans
-choke-holding like hulk hogan
holding a blow gun but don’t load none
i’m so cold in i prefer to beat you ’til there’s bones broken so no joking
broke enough to leave your safe broke open with notes stolen
dumb hack, making a comeback by squeezing my nut sack
since 2pac was one-pac, cutback? i stuck crack in my b-tt crack
sat on the luggage rack watched rugrats woke up on a mudflat
so small when i fold in a brawl i roll in a ball
and crawl though a hole in the wall
i give it my soul and my all, with each pen i hold when i scrawl
even p-ssed out from alcohol in the mall sprawled on the floor
on solvent withdrawal and don’t even get cold any more
so don’t ask me what happens before any fall
i stay conscious, no contest
i write my shit on paper and not youtube comments

charlie muscle: rest in peace big l