wordsmith lyrics – chino xl

flawless, masterpiece, no mistakes
back in the 1800’s i was burned at the stake
metaphor mephistopheles
degrees i’ve achieved
the brain fluid it takes to believe
would equal the seven seas
i could reveal the true name of god
but you would go insane upon hearing it
release enough winds to
blow down pyramids
i’m the michelangelo of syllables
since i freestyle
genesis been biblical
that’s something you got to give in to

(verse i)
since born in my mama’s v*g*n*l sauna
as a sono-gram, i’ve been fond of phonics
it’s ironic, even as an embryonic
fed through an umbilical
don’t that sound biblical?
i’ve been a terror
since i teareth out of the u-terus
because evil plans were made to defeat us
as a fetus
though now i walk in infamy
as a child they had it in for me
was raised with guns in infantry
in diapers and in infancy
the childhood of a hood
that was raised in the hood
cops said “put your hands in the hot sky”
i put my hands down on the hot hood
i can’t whine or drink wine
nine planets planned it
’til it became apparent
my parents shouldn’t have been a parent
state to state we ran some
i wasn’t worth no ransom
money, won’t you hand some?
a n*gg* wasn’t handsome
raise the mind like charles manson’s
new i was some man’s son
but which one?
that made me strong
created my poison tongue.


(verse ii)
why you cut school?
cause you ain’t feel too good
i cut school
cause my cuts ain’t heal too good
through all the physical abuse
my mind escaped
through the gift of wordplay
i memorized encyclopedias and dictionaries
i wrote anthems from antonyms
harmonies from h*m*nyms
created cinema from synonyms
was livid to eliminate
that ill*strious life you’re livin’ in
wrote rhetoricals in rhythms
i can paralyze with a parable
made rhymes out of religion
use a prefix as a crucifix
or suffocate you with a suffix
wrote lectures so infectious
they’re known to infect the listeners
who dissin’ us?
yo punks you wait – i punctuate
my karma’s the comma
that put you inside of a coma
hyphen, dot, dot, semi-colon
leave you semi-swollen
question mark: you pregnant?
oh you’re not? i love you, period
to sum it up, language is my essence
f*cked up in all my adolescence
till my mom’s was out of lessons
laws, i store convenient
still i rob a convenience store
love mom, f*ck mom
sh*t, i don’t love me no more
mentally it didn’t register, b*tch
empty the register, b*tch
you just a cashier, b*tch
give the cash, here
or i’ll shoot you in your cabbage
hijack a getaway cab, b*tch
words ain’t makin’ me no loot
don’t change now dow jones average
regardless, we godless
they stole my innocence
in a sense, the judge sentenced me
to 3 lifetimes sentences
to write my life in times and sentences
art my dark arch nemesis
they want me off the premises
that’s what the premise is
locked on a tier
where you can’t shed a tear at
i studied more shakespeare
than any african can shake a spear at
and the whole world fear that
and it hurts
i got caught for killing time
but then i got with words


people can say whatever they want about me
but agree that i am the wordsmith
they can try to ignore everything that i’ve achieved
but agree that i am the wordsmith
i am the wordsmith
yo, the love of words is deep in my veins
must be to silence my pain
i am the wordsmith
and even if i never move a million units
it’s my blessing how i do it, cuz
i am the wordsmith

(verse iii)
i’m in a game full of morons
and they keep putting more on
i tutor the torah
i’m in the core of the qu’aran
the mind’s what i represent
and mc’s better re-present
i’m taking this rappin’ bullsh*t
to the fullest extent
i have reservations
why indians are on reservations
told that board of education
i was bored of education
as far as this go
i leave you deader than disco
rocking s*x and violence
over sax and violins
through your minds camera lens
you’re in need of an ambulance
i’ll knock you to the asphalt
it’s your own *ss fault
your last thought
i’ll never sell my self short to be famous
and taking it up the *n*s just ain’t us
the world could get the p*n*s
of this cl*ssically trained pianist
my p.o. was p.o.’d
handed me a cup, told me to “pee in this”
the linguist musician
my college position is that my intuition
told me i wouldn’t be affordin’ tuition
my education’s all on my own
i might have been born yesterday
but i rhyme like there’s no tomorrow.


/ chino xl lyrics