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letra de sinister - chino xl & stu bangas

[verse 1]
it’s impossible to topple over this fossil irresponsible
stab pupils in their pupils, eat they opticals out, pasta b-lls
erratic, adamant animal, horrible carnivore
discarding ?this psalm to you? like rotted body or pistachios
i’m on a whim, dishonoring spin, awfully grim, scorpion sting
when i’m in the booth i’m bringing the evil grinning
annabelle doll out of the conjuring, objects in the room spinning
spilling holy water all over the church, my word’s k!lling
my verse is a putrid poison perfume peeling paint
and it looms in the air in the full moon in june, i’ll probably faint
?the pro at? pottery saint, every part of me ?shapes?
they try to dishonor my rank to bottle the hate that i think
for christ’s sake, you’rе dealing with a man that is monstrous
if we’ve еvolved from apes then i haven’t evolved that much
lyric lazarus, my scriptures are sacred
god must love garbage artists ’cause look at how many that he created

[verse 2]
yo, chino the gnarly narcissist, i enjoy collecting and chopping
arms off of puppeteers during their performances
there is no precifice, let me state this with emphasis
i’ll be the infamous cause of your injuries if this persists
i fester like a wound in a maggoting corpse with not a tomb exist
and no haserot angel crying black tears through the mist
only steps in the darkest abyss
see the cemetery and buryin’ presbyterian madness
my recital’s liable to turn bible liver than [?]
amorous monster, cancerous author, awkwarder than
snorting coke through a rubber snorkel in front of porches of wh0res
performing nude acts in front of an orphanage
of the crippled and the unfortunate
that maybe should’ve been brought to the villainous mortician
with a little bottle of butchered abortions in it
i got a garage with a porche in it
i got a massage and a ménage by a mirage of a mills midget
[verse 3]
get cash till i’m {in bread / inbred} like incest
get your brain sprayed across the window like red windex
take the hint, you don’t want to see chino flip
i got a lot of n-ggas like a quentin tarantino script
you’re feeling like your flesh has been ripped by shark t–th
hunted in a dark reef, as an artist i’m marquis
in the marshes i carve your slob niece, that wh0re thief
but this is not beef, i stab a nascar driver with his car keys
(are you serious?) my sk!llset reel ’em in
i spit it harder than playing hide-and-seek is with a chameleon
the box in the end of the movie se7en
i put your wife’s head in a box and k!ll the rest of your fam with a knife that i found in the kitchen
i’m wretched, sinister and b-tchin’
born with a wicked wit and wisdom
vision worse and sick than felons watching p-rn in prison
still out of my mind, still hating mankind
i’ve found jesus in my lineage on ancestry.com

- chino xl stu bangas

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