Spit Sumthin'
K-Rino Lyrics

I stay focused, life’s all about balance
Success breeds ‘cause God gave me this talent
I never rode the bench
I always been a starter
And overtime gon’ cost you
More than four quarters
Big mouths I slap shut and
Slap nuts I vanquish Flap them lips too much you’ll
Leave using sign language
Call me king ‘cause I wreck ‘em
Polish ‘em with my septum
Trap ‘em when I catch ‘em
Put motion sensors in they rectum
And then I send ‘em through so
They can roam the blue
And you bet not call the police ‘cause every
Step you take I’ll be watching you
I’ll be watching you
I swear every step you take
I’ll be watching you

Sick militant flow, like a carbine
Explicit with the lyrics
Watch me blow like a time bomb
Soldier of fortune, no time for the outcome
SPC, where the hell Sniper come from?
H Town, baby, no love for you busters
Regime too raw, that’s why they don’t love us
The Mexican patna reppin’ SPC
Nobody in the game doing it like me
I’m surrounded by history
A legend in the making
K-Rino said homie that it’s
Mine for the taking
Can’t mess with the warriors
I’m bringing the pain
Snipe with the beast, militant mind-frame

Rapper K is the answer to the
Question of who is it got the call from the
Flip my tongue like a lizard
Had no choice but to react when
I first heard this track
Started jottin’ down lines in the
Back of the Lac contemplating to myself
Now where should I begin?
I’m headed to the lab, my phone rings
It’s K again
Said, "I’m giving you a heads-up
You better bring your A-game
‘cause GT just killed it
And Sniper wasn’t playin’
I arrived at the lab and heard this shit,
He wasn’t frontin’
Now I’m standing at the mic
I’m ‘bout to spit something
I’m ‘bout to shine, ‘bout to go for mine
I only got twelve lines, ah shit,
I’m outta time

Cool game, not only hood
They internationally know my name
Cl’ Che but you can call me Ms West
The only rap chick in South Park
In the library history chest
SPC, SUC, you can run across me
Legendary emcee
Every word in my lyrics done paid dues
Google me, baby, under the keyword "She’s a"
They hittin’ me from Germany saying
"Cl’ Che’s cool"
They can’t speak English but
They rappin’ every word I put in Pro Tools
Spit something or just repeat this
"She’s a little mama and she’s a bad chick

Just as is Anakin Skywalker before
Transforming to Darth Vader
My pen takes the form of a lightsaber
We touching the paper
My thoughts condense from vapors
My neighbors savor the flavor
Like babies pacing in
Front of a pit filled with alligators
When calibrating my brain
Can’t remain unanimated
I allocated a heavy dose of pain
It’s navigated
Straight to your mainframe through
The main vein you strain in vain to
Maintain but can’t contain
The flame the God rained down with love
For Abel but disdain for Cain
Who he labeled a murderer of his brother
Which was unstable and deranged
But now we gang bang and slang ‘caine

I’m a South Park assassin that’s
Sicker than straw fakers
Walk-ins are, take upon all takers
God bless you and your mama
When fckin’ with Murder
You end up with multiple head trauma
I talk the talk, walk the walk
So ease on down the road end up in chalk
I have no preference who I devour, man
Me with a hundred round clip make
It easy to shower man
Now whoever thought Murder One
Was a rowdy man
A everyday cat that runs with a rowdy clan
South Park Coalition is the name
Of this rowdy band
Murder One and I’m outie man

I spot moon rocks with my optics
Got subatomic harpoons and deadly
Monsoons in my pocket
I pause and start morphing
Inner body experience where I enter
Your body and crush organs
I think 'til the floor spins
I'm still bombing after the war ends
Endorphins so strong they make swords bend
Live and execute a rough
Lyrics prolific shooter
In the womb receiving visions
From my physics tutor
Once the beat ignites, no more MCs in sight
I'm from a planet where midgets
Are seven feet in height
I don't let cowards speak
Plus my powers deep
Work for nine years in a row
And recharge on a hour's sleep

Officer Cartwheel, officer Cooper
Tuck your tails in when you see
Us on street, if not, we shoot ya
On your way to hell ‘cause
Heaven you never made it
Walk around in your shell ‘cause
Your soul’s been desecrated
Don’t slouch, keep my pistol in perfect pouch
Hit you when you in your Snuggie
Sittin’ on your curvy couch
Rhymes blow up, scar you in legions
Twisted metal travels to equatorial regions
Retaliation got a lot of remedies
One by one your family
Members erased like Kennedys
I’m a rapper slash producer slash terrorist
Slash illuminati grow from ear to ear
I’m the scariest

Out a playa know his mama
Planted the truth in me
And grew up so big ’til it popped
Now it’s loose in me
Mind frame brain ain’t the same
That it used to be i rather live life than
Chase women and jewelry
Spit game came with a heavenly layer
Beware, be everywhere
It ain’t no playin’ with you, busters
I will shoot in the air
But instead of spittin’ some bullets
I’ma spit you a prayer
Dear God, let ‘em ride
Give ‘em where to survive
Leave ’em alive, even if he wishing I died
And dear God, let ‘em ride even if we collide
‘cause I know even when I’m wrong
I want you on my side and that’s

Spittin’ at you fools
Kick down doors, go and stage
Seek the truth, gain self-knowledge
Educate yourself, as well as go college
Spit from the mind, spit to the beat
Spit from the heart
Spit for those raised on the streets
Words transcribe onto paper without thinking
Some think they’re on top but
I see ‘em sinking
I’m a spitter, old school tagger
Flows still sharp like a sharpened dagger
Climb the ladder from the gutter to the stage
Now I spit something just to earn my wage

It’s the return of
Class of ’89, bloodline SPC
I’m a lyrical train-wreck, spot-rocker

Slam dunk kind of flow
Shattered the glass in South Park but I
Was on the court in Tokyo
Half man, half silverback
Half of my opponent hanging out my mouth
I got an anaconda’s digestive tract
Assassin’s Creed hard when I spit
Butso hard and jumped on my dck
Rare breed of the SPC seed
Signing out live from, yo

Uh, full block say goodbye
When I spit something that’s for nias left
We burn and get to dumpin’
That’s for nias thinking they chick won’t
Leave ‘cause a nia rich
But when, she got hooked on the bigger fish
I’m like the old school Wu, all about cream
Getting to the been like sippin’ on lean
Gotta spit something, bringing out the team
Got enough drive for two and a half men
Call me Charlie Green
I’m in the streets with that thing
I gotta get it right
You can dodge for so long like Eddie
My chopper Scary Spice
I leave the like a college grad what I spit
Nias catching bullets like a young Jerry Rice

Point Blank, the Southside OG
They know the real so they still
Keep they eyes on me
You might not see me on BET
Or things of that nature
Can’t get no play when nias at
The radio station hate ya
One thing they can’t take from
Me is the streets
A lot of these pussies can’t
Be found in the streets
Yeah, like I’m all over
Call me AI when I hit
The state-line and I crossover
I represent Texas like Vince
A boss like Prince, you can check my prints
You might see me in the club
With some Lords and Bloods
Got a sherm flow motherfckin’ enjoy the drugs
Wanna get high with the Blankster? Fck that
The door closed
All you btch nias and you fake hes
South Park Coalition, that’s us
Remember that when you start talkin’ ‘bout
Houston and don’t mention us

I’m suffering, my heart is in pain
I’m a madman ‘cause the whole world is insane
I read scriptures ‘cause decisions
Come too hard
Money, cash, currency which is our true god?
Good or bad, right or wrong, life’s a seesaw
Sometimes the straight and narrow
Path has a detour
My mind clicks like a snare with a mob kick
Ideas spark like a high hat constant
The city breeze, the streets are a part of me
Danger don’t bother me
There’s ice water in my arteries
I mean-mug a alligator like he did something
Stared a cobra eye to eye
Dared him to spit something

Spit hot lava disperse
Rough like tryna quench a thirst
Must release a verse among the first
Clicked up fools puttin’ up in a hearse
Pressure bust pipes where the shit
Done burst
These fools right here are the worst
Claim your turf, we claim the earth
Hardest clique btch from the birth
Only curse is spittin’ the truth
Call the laws when in the booth
Soft ass hes pray to live
This track missing one thing, AC Chill

Nias always ask me why I
Kick this psycho shit
I got a axe with ten blades
That I might go get
If I explain it to you, nia
Then you will get hit
Tell your mama it’s a black dress
She needs to go get when it sticks in
That motherfcker makes me proud
Spray blood so thick and far
It looks like a cloud
And I love ‘em so much that I named all ten
But I won’t say they names ’til they
All go in and come out
The brains left for stains
And that’s the reason why I
Gave ‘em ten different names
Like Becky, Robert, Kevin, Michael and Drew
Keisha, K-Rino, you name the last two uh

It all started
In the kitchen with a mission
Tryna beat the competition
Treat it like a job so I
Can retire with a pension
Hit the block with a, four oz’s in my pocket
I’m outta control, you just can’t stop me
J water in this btch and
I’m spittin’ on the mic
And I promise that I can do it all night
Yeah motherfckin’ nias, SPC
When you lookin’ for that white girl
Come see me i’m a beast in these streets
Monster in this motherfckin’ game
When they call me, I let them bullets rain
No matter the consequences, I’m still here
Sippin’ syrup, smoking’ herb in
The atmosphere, yeah, hahh

I politick when it come to spit these rhymes
Boy talkin’ about my rep, man
‘cause they ain’t got a style like mine
I’m the new generation
I got the remedy to rep
No disabilities, only the ability to snap
I'll take words and abstract
You can call me analyst
Boy talkin’ ‘bout they gon’ run when
They peters can’t even spit shit
Nias like the way I rip this
My tongue I flip it
Yeah they like the way I spit it

See, how many times have we done this, man?
How many clique songs have you heard over
The years from the South Park Coalition?
All the way down
Slipped into a coma murder script
Name on a bullet
The original South Park Coalition
This what we do, man
So all the rappers around the world, y’all
Keep on makin’ y’all clique songs, man
Let’s keep this thing going
We can keep throwing
Keepin’ that work in, mash on these




Tricks, yeah, haha, that’s it
It ain’t enough room in this booth for all us