[Intro: ILL BILL]
Yo, ILL BILL in the motherfucking house
About to get busy
Word is bond
[Verse 1: ILL BILL]
Now I'm a ram my fucking Glock like a cock up your asshole
I open your fucking skull, prepare brain casserole
Natural, with no fucking preservatives
When I murder kids, I make certain the fucking blood’s squirting
Close the curtain
Push the punk off the fucking plank
I be turning Coca-Cola cans into shanks
Twist the fucking flesh in grotesque contortions
I use a chainsaw when I'm performing an abortion
Use caution before you're caught up in the world of body-catching
Chop up fucking faggots into fractions
My [?] blast your motherfucking ass out the frame
Attach it to my gat
Clip the fucking power, then I aim for your brain
I’m insane, no emotion, psychopathic
Got no respect for human life cause I'm a sick bastard
You gots no gats, so why you making moves?
You lose, because I gots the ILL BILL blues
Nah, ILL BILL's the fucking name, don't wear it out
I grab you by your fucking throat then I tear it out
My whereabouts are unknown to the authorities
I fulfill my gory needs, committing gory deeds
The talk is all (???)
Make you sure rocking, see you on my block
As a big old bloody mess
Make a nigga blister from his paranoia
Rob your mothers, now I sent some pictures to Fangoria
Plus the Hustler magazine for your pops
Motherfuck the cops, I've got the props
To make you bleed till there's no fucking blood left in your system
Pus pouring out your eye sockets like you was pissing
Yo, ILL BILL in the motherfucking house
About to get busy
Word is bond
[Verse 1: ILL BILL]
Now I'm a ram my fucking Glock like a cock up your asshole
I open your fucking skull, prepare brain casserole
Natural, with no fucking preservatives
When I murder kids, I make certain the fucking blood’s squirting
Close the curtain
Push the punk off the fucking plank
I be turning Coca-Cola cans into shanks
Twist the fucking flesh in grotesque contortions
I use a chainsaw when I'm performing an abortion
Use caution before you're caught up in the world of body-catching
Chop up fucking faggots into fractions
My [?] blast your motherfucking ass out the frame
Attach it to my gat
Clip the fucking power, then I aim for your brain
I’m insane, no emotion, psychopathic
Got no respect for human life cause I'm a sick bastard
You gots no gats, so why you making moves?
You lose, because I gots the ILL BILL blues
Nah, ILL BILL's the fucking name, don't wear it out
I grab you by your fucking throat then I tear it out
My whereabouts are unknown to the authorities
I fulfill my gory needs, committing gory deeds
The talk is all (???)
Make you sure rocking, see you on my block
As a big old bloody mess
Make a nigga blister from his paranoia
Rob your mothers, now I sent some pictures to Fangoria
Plus the Hustler magazine for your pops
Motherfuck the cops, I've got the props
To make you bleed till there's no fucking blood left in your system
Pus pouring out your eye sockets like you was pissing
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