[Intro]
People sometimes don't care, they don't -
They, they're so busy with themselves
They're so busy growing, so busy trying to be something
And they forget, until something tragic happens in their lives
Until they lose somebody or they lose something in their life
They say, "why didn't I do the right thing?
Why didn't I say what I always wanted to say?"
I'm trying to say it now while I am alive
[Verse 1: ILL BILL]
I was taught to die with my boots on my enemy's throat
Not slumped over in my wife's lap like Kennedy's dome
But you don't get to choose death unless your serenity's broke
Loss of suicidal hanging from your sanity's rope
So we live like the shadow of death is upon us to the fullest
Fuck with us, you go from full of shit to full of bullets
We the masters of the darkest of arts
In the shroud of the shadow till the hellfire is sparked
The revolution will be classified
This song is programmed to self-destruct
See you in the afterlife
See you in the promised land of milk and honey
Where we kill for money
Where every hundred-dollar bill is stained with guilt and bloody
Where every single truth is tainted by lies
Where every pistol shoot hatred like the blaze in the sky
Composed like a symphony, orchestrating the crimes
Spraying the nine, explode instantly, taking what's mine
People sometimes don't care, they don't -
They, they're so busy with themselves
They're so busy growing, so busy trying to be something
And they forget, until something tragic happens in their lives
Until they lose somebody or they lose something in their life
They say, "why didn't I do the right thing?
Why didn't I say what I always wanted to say?"
I'm trying to say it now while I am alive
[Verse 1: ILL BILL]
I was taught to die with my boots on my enemy's throat
Not slumped over in my wife's lap like Kennedy's dome
But you don't get to choose death unless your serenity's broke
Loss of suicidal hanging from your sanity's rope
So we live like the shadow of death is upon us to the fullest
Fuck with us, you go from full of shit to full of bullets
We the masters of the darkest of arts
In the shroud of the shadow till the hellfire is sparked
The revolution will be classified
This song is programmed to self-destruct
See you in the afterlife
See you in the promised land of milk and honey
Where we kill for money
Where every hundred-dollar bill is stained with guilt and bloody
Where every single truth is tainted by lies
Where every pistol shoot hatred like the blaze in the sky
Composed like a symphony, orchestrating the crimes
Spraying the nine, explode instantly, taking what's mine
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