Brooklyn Bonanza ’92 ILL BILL

[Intro]
"Don't look at me I had nothing to do with it
It was a million guys lined up from here
To Conasi looking to wack that bastard."

[Chorus]
"Feel good, feel good!"
"Feel good, feel good!"
"Feel good, feel good!"
"Feel good, feel good!"
"Straight from Brooklyn
From out the projects."

Verse 1:
Here comes the boy in the motherfucking bubble
Foul mouth like dice and rough like cunt stubble
Come check out the crematorium inside my brain
I scorch emcees like DVD's with shit stains on cocaine
Straight up the nostrils, my box drill through your skull
???
So you shit in your pants while you're waiting for the reaper
Check your pulse I check my mothafuckin' beeper
Big Words connects like dots that clot cheese
I do nuff' drugs just like a hippie from thе 60's
Hand on my dick, my other hand on the phone
I chop off your hand and lеave you with a bloody stump
Brooklyn Bonanza, East Coast Extravaganza
In 92' kid I'm blowing up like brain cancer
Leaving lumps and tumors across your body
Call up Goretex, buss out the bong, and have a pot party
That's how it's going down, that's the agenda
So remember my dialectical dismember
Blunt-smoking dead kid, flip the ills fixture
Busting out the butts(???) like a pornographic picture