Chino Xl - What You Lookin' At lyrics

[Chorus] I, see, you, you, see, me We, got, beef, you, try, to, hi-ide (can't hide n***a) What the f** you lookin at? The next, time, I, see, your, face (yo, can't stop it, uh-uh) I'm, gon', swing, or, shoot, on, si-ight (yo, soon as I see) What the f** you lookin at? [Chino XL] Yo... yo, yo Where's he at, where's he been? Don't count on a, calculator n***a you can count on Poison Pen (for what?) To spit it like he got some sort of a cold And this fork in the road is that I expose without talkin in codes Blacker than n***az eyes like they Lincoln limo tinted windows You need protection like you f**in {*edited*} widow I ain't here to play man games, don't wanna arm wrestle I pull out them thangs and blow out your brain vessel {*BLAM*} That's what actin insane'll get you I ain't your cable company n***a cause physically I'll come disconnect you Disrespect you in front of your main b**h Can't change this, throw you a hundred like "Kid, change this" It's dangerous speakin to me in a tone containin anguish I'm handin out revenge like it's a main dish I give a fu*k if you speak Spanish or English An a** whippin is an a** whippin in any language You panic sensin my manic rage and aggression Only b**h you see inside of my eyes is your reflection It's in the rest of you, dead in a Def Jam restroom Murder's a big investment, I'll bring it from small intestine It's like we in a Western, movie with Charlton Heston You needed to learn a lesson, this is your point of reference It's embarra**in how bad you turned on me Now you on the wrong side like steering wheels in cars in Germany I got the DVD of your wife gettin k**ed and raped And everybody watched it like the Paris Hilton tape Yo where I'm from there ain't no scared hearts (nope) Had a twin brother but I murdered him, now I'm usin his body for spare parts [Chorus] [Chino XL] Yo, and until somebody verse me, ain't showin no kind of mercy And don't call me homie unless you was born in Jersey I got a gay gun and it kiss men {*whistling*} That ain't old school Public Enemy playing, that's bullets whistlin And since I'm in the Benz cops stalk me He got on that walkie-talkie, now he can't walky or talky (force me) I'm the type of crazy case Inhale the weed as deep as I can and blow the smoke in a newborn baby's face I'm never gettin on "Punk'd" - f** that! They'll bury that f*ggot Ashton Kutcher in his red trucker hat (welcome back) I'm 'bout to have all these cowards that rap where they get to heaven God will contact me to ask me where the hell they at The verbal god, I murder your entire entourage I got so many edges on rappers that I'm an octogon We can't get along cause when you rhyme you just wastin our time I'm makin sure the name Chino XL ain't no oxymoron A braided napalm, streets created me like Frankenstein Wan' shoot yourself? Suit yourself like Puff wearin Sean John I cause charm like I'm flyin an Iranian airline Even Indian n***az know that they better keep they dots calm I'm crossin a line with more lines crossed and are lost that made mark in a time on a wall of a cell losin his mind So I speak of pollution and crime over beats executioner's kind But Lucifer's kind was producin millions induced me to sign I only wanna rhyme hard - I refuse to do this for everybody else but me like a blind chick with a b**b job Now who want, what? Who wanna get punched, stabbed, shot, stomped, jumped? Basically f**ed the f** up! [Chorus] - repeat 2X