Black Metal ILL BILL (Ft. Q-Unique & Sick Jacken)

Verse 1 (ILL BILL):

I spit on behalf of my death cult made of millions of morbid angels
Standing in a burning church in Norway lost in hatred
Of course Satan smiles through the face of a child
Who's born with the number of the Devil scraped into his scalp
We don’t like none of y’all at all
My 'Fuck your mother in the mouth' type of dawgs might write this song
Triple X bitches call me and invite me home
They run up on me on the street in then invite me dome
I spit the truth for the youth movement, it’s goon music
Engineered to make you bang your motherfucking head to it
Earn chips, live fast lives and spit flames
Then burn bitches with crackpipes like Rick James
Ill Bill, I’m from Brooklyn where the stars are born
I make drug music plus I be involved in porn
I be the chosen like Robby Benson beyond comprehension
Holding a toaster like Bronson in Death Wish

Hook (x2)

Black metal, I cock back react thorough
En la botánica con el santero
Black mask, white robe, shrouded in peril
Trapped me in the war between God and the Devil