ILL BILL, Goretex - Omar Suarez lyrics
[ILL BILL, Goretex - Omar Suarez lyrics]
ILL Bill keep it real like the
'80s when we flooded the projects
Or like Ollie North when
He funded the Contras
Like Kody Scott homie we
Constructed a monster
Holding the Glock posting
As we run for the chopper
It’s a black carpet event
Martyrs and jets start up a pit
Who the fuck pop off harder than this
When I hit you the impact is
Like if God had a fist
I’m hollow tip my every molecule
Is part of the clip
I’m bin Laden part sick show
I’m part of the chip
I’m not sure beyond the shadow of
A doubt if I exist bitch talked up Papi for
Discount on the brick
Kid walked up cocky got shot in the dick
Finance is a gun
Politics is knowing when to pull the trigger
Electric heretic the zig-zag zigga
With the Arm-Leg-Leg-Arm-Head, God descends
Wander spiritually dead
Pop the pistol through your head
Brooklyn 1986, Nike sneakers and Beamers
Teenagers buying keys from drug
Dealers named Jesus
We the reason for the Secret Service
Posted in trees with burners
Exploding like a overheating furnace
I seen the truth rise and fall
Their eyes were born fuck the system
Fuck who I offend these whores
Shout words that we live but
Don’t play with it
'Cause when the shit go down you
Be like they did it
They call me matzah ball
I mix it with an acetal
Cause Howie told me the proper call
When the cops get called
Activist clients forty boxes
Like rocking tour
From the projects to going hungry
Selling rocks of raw
Like Nicky Sixx live wire, Spawn born of fire
The two messiahs
Soul of the Elohim and Billy Squier
The body in the trunk
Been smelling for a week
What you wanna do, bury it and burn it
Then burn leek
Belt Parkway like I'm Roy DeMeo
Chop you in the tub for yayo
Run it by bengals, piano wire, million pesos
If we on the grid we sit with no payrolls
Like Tuddy walk with respect
With umbrellas to payphones
I've seen the truth
I got scars from state phones
And dead homies
Kissing their casket on final way home
Demented retribution canted with
The congregation blessed to death
The angel Kabbalah meditation
That piece of shit up there
I never liked him
I never trusted him for all I know
He had me set up, and had my friend
Angel Fernandez killed but that's
History i'm here, he's not
Do you wanna go on with me, you say it
You don't, then you make a move
'80s when we flooded the projects
Or like Ollie North when
He funded the Contras
Like Kody Scott homie we
Constructed a monster
Holding the Glock posting
As we run for the chopper
It’s a black carpet event
Martyrs and jets start up a pit
Who the fuck pop off harder than this
When I hit you the impact is
Like if God had a fist
I’m hollow tip my every molecule
Is part of the clip
I’m bin Laden part sick show
I’m part of the chip
I’m not sure beyond the shadow of
A doubt if I exist bitch talked up Papi for
Discount on the brick
Kid walked up cocky got shot in the dick
Finance is a gun
Politics is knowing when to pull the trigger
Electric heretic the zig-zag zigga
With the Arm-Leg-Leg-Arm-Head, God descends
Wander spiritually dead
Pop the pistol through your head
Brooklyn 1986, Nike sneakers and Beamers
Teenagers buying keys from drug
Dealers named Jesus
We the reason for the Secret Service
Posted in trees with burners
Exploding like a overheating furnace
I seen the truth rise and fall
Their eyes were born fuck the system
Fuck who I offend these whores
Shout words that we live but
Don’t play with it
'Cause when the shit go down you
Be like they did it
They call me matzah ball
I mix it with an acetal
Cause Howie told me the proper call
When the cops get called
Activist clients forty boxes
Like rocking tour
From the projects to going hungry
Selling rocks of raw
Like Nicky Sixx live wire, Spawn born of fire
The two messiahs
Soul of the Elohim and Billy Squier
The body in the trunk
Been smelling for a week
What you wanna do, bury it and burn it
Then burn leek
Belt Parkway like I'm Roy DeMeo
Chop you in the tub for yayo
Run it by bengals, piano wire, million pesos
If we on the grid we sit with no payrolls
Like Tuddy walk with respect
With umbrellas to payphones
I've seen the truth
I got scars from state phones
And dead homies
Kissing their casket on final way home
Demented retribution canted with
The congregation blessed to death
The angel Kabbalah meditation
That piece of shit up there
I never liked him
I never trusted him for all I know
He had me set up, and had my friend
Angel Fernandez killed but that's
History i'm here, he's not
Do you wanna go on with me, you say it
You don't, then you make a move