ILL BILL - 21 lyrics
[ILL BILL - 21 lyrics]
Doing life without parole
When the jury heard what I'd done
Guilty was the vote
When the judge gave me my sentence
He read it to me cold whiskey on his breath
Masturbating underneath his robe
Only 21 in prison, doing life without parole
When I had the chance
I should've sold the devil my soul
Hell yeah, I shot the sheriff
Left his body full of holes
Now I'm 21 in prison
Doing life without parole
We all enter the world the same way
Naked and screaming
Soaked in blood but things change
Some are brought home to palaces
Others to the projects
Some are born billionaires and
Some are born convicts
Momma said when life gives
You lemons make lemonade
Take a piss in it and serve it
To the people that you hate
My pops always said there's only
Two types my friend
Those with loaded guns and those who
Eat shit 'til they're dead
I miss both of them, one's gone
The other in prison i hate both of them
The love dies and none of it given
I gave both of them enough time
To show me their wisdom
I'll take both of them to hell with me
My soul is convicted as I stand in front of
Satan hoping for answers
Coping with madness
I hold the chrome like a social advantage
Never hate your enemies
It affects your judgement
Keep it close point blank
Range and render justice!
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury
The defendant's story begins within a
Childhood of fear and misery age ten
Witnessed his father murder his own mother
The guilt of her death lingers in
His dreams when he slumbers
Even though he was a child
He still felt responsible
Most of his adolescence in and
Out of mental hospitals
Anti-social, anti-everything
Sucked into a system
Pacified by prescribed medicine
With psychiatrists as father figures
His biological a scumbag sociopath
Locked in prison
He hated him with all his heart
And so he never visited him
Though the monster that his father
Was also lived in him
Kill a person you're a murderer
Thousands you're a terrorists
Everyone, you're the father of
Jesus of Nazareth
Perception is reality, facts are negotiable
I'll clap the Mac off and
Put twenty-one holes in you
Coke, it costs money planes, they cost money
This yacht, it all costs money
Do you think Kitty's free? (What?) huh!?
Kitty turn around (What?) turn around
Mister please, put the gun down (gunshot)
Now the next time that a plane goes down
You better be on it