Can Be - Chino XL

I know I can be

A little hard to deal with so I stay

High as I can be

To get through the day without screaming

They call me Lyrical Jesus but don’t make me get evil

If I put my hands on you it won’t be to heal you

Sometimes I’m hoping that this life is just a bad dream

Cause I done seen things that make a dead nigga scream

«Where you been at?»

I’m questioned by my peers

But even Shakespeare disappeared for seven years

Then returned with the greatest work that a playwrite ever did

So counting Chino out really is not a bright idea

Manuel Barbosa, meet your son

I’m half Chalino Sanchez, half Big Pun

And as a shorty they would call me Chino Action

Was 10 years old at Def Jam trying to battle Run

11 years old in a juvenile cell

Lyrically already, you couldn’t tell me I wasn’t LL

I never failed I’m still a hell of a writing machine

Chino raises stakes like Van Helsing

I’m like the pope, kiss the ring

How can I be anything else with so many tendancies of a king?

I’m like a veteran from Vietnam

My mind’s numb, at time my grind shock you like electricians with sweaty palms

I met Gil Scott Heron on a long flight

He said, «Brother, you the type to make writers want to go and write.»

How can I leave something I do so well?

I’m tired, my eyes glowing red like jewels from Hell

The hotels, sleepless night, the need for rifle power

More parasites than you can see from top of Eiffel Tower

They say my ego put me out of history

I’m so conceited I’m jealous when people envy me

I ain’t scared to die, I’m very moody

Everybody gotta go sometime like jury duty

But why try me?

Even with all them Chinese kata’s who try to master you can’t tie Chi

No

Yo, you know Chino from the Wake Up Show

The records, I Told U So

And Poison Pen and classic Here To Save You All

You ain’t even a factor

So matter of fact I’mma mow your block down like I drive a John Deere tractor

Haters feel the threat

Cause the muscularity of Chino and an action figure’s anatomically correct

Everybody likes to rattle a lion’s cage

But no one wants to go in alone when his razors are displayed

Afraid of long scars, dim-witted as Chumlee on Pawn Stars

Still special like 50 Tyson’s report card

All this Vicodin, Jack Daniel’s and valiums

Bout it, blow them promos up, it’s time to drop these albums

If I don’t make it and I’m decomposing in a box

My influence lives on

I just won’t be there to watch

Say, «He was the illest when he picked up that pen.»

And judge me by my enemies as well as my friends

Gone