Ill Flow Children of the Corn

[Hook x2]
I'm lettin' niggas know they can't fuck with my ill flow
I'm lettin' niggas know they can't fuck with my ill flow
I'm lettin' niggas know they can't fuck with my ill flow
Cause I'm a wickedess -wickedess -brrrr wickedess

[Verse 1 - Bloodshed]
Aiyyo, I got a bullet vest, niggas that fes'
I'm on some new stress, walk around with a Smith Wess'
Givin' heart tests, I'm heartless
On some ill shit, I'm out to spark shit
You wanna stay alive, then money don't get on my spark list
Straight up fuckin' murderer who don't play, I fucking slay
So fuck around and get your brains blown like JFK
Richard Kuklinski that's my idol, all about survival
My gat leaves niggas more holy then the fucking Bible
But aiyyo it gets worse, I spark a church
I'm the type to make your grandmoms grab her fucking purse
My life is fucked up, worse-r then that, my life's a stressed world
Yo, even the fresh girls get sprayed up like S-curls
Assassin-ater brought up by the ways of a tec
A nine, a gat, a Glock is all I need to catch wreck
Bloodshed; a buddha head, known for flippin' when I'm trippin'
I put the fuckin' clip in then I'm leaving niggas drippin'
A madman public nuisance, I'm like a heart threat
Leave niggas slain on the train like Bernhard Goetz
A murderer, fucking with me, you must got problems
I'll make you wish your pops would've used a fucking condom
I used to sell cracks, break bones and backs
Now I bust raps, catch gats, Glocks and MACs
I'm leavin' bullet scars, fuck usin' a knife
Buck ya twice, take your life, plus your afterlife
Eyes are chinky like an oriental, far from gentle
I guess I'm just fucked up in the mental
Leavin' 'em dead Bloodshed; nasty ass brother
Lock ya mom's door cause I'm a bad muthafucka