ILL BILL - Septagram lyrics
[ILL BILL - Septagram lyrics]
Thousands of years before the
Dawn of civilization
Evil magicians fought for supremacy
"It’s mine! The ultimate power! Power
Which can convert thought waves
Into material action! There is nothing
I cannot do! Nothing!"
Anton LaVey, Fu-Manchu facial hair
Goons with the hateful stare
Move with palatial flare
Young Gary Busey but carry an Uzi
Young Cosby
Hairy pussies and strawberry roofies
Young Ozzy, creep in the grass
Spray with the milli-chrome
Ski mask on my face like it’s really cold
Summertime but my blood like icicles
Possessed by a demon whose
Name is undecipherable
The tip of every hollow twirl like a football
Shocking to see that half of your
Head’s what it took off
I’m like murder with the MAC-11
The fire swirling from the
Barrel like past redemption
Spas with the chopper
Savage like acid and vodka
I’m like the Grim Reaper but carry a shotgun
Met with culties that would go December close
When death approached the end is close
Yet to tote finesse to the freshest rose
Puffin reefer an Academy Marina
Slugs from my niner will make
You dance like a ballerina
Like dust in the wind
Like angels in the hellfire
Silent like a twelve-gauge in the jail riot
Opposite of Henry Hill, proper, stay quiet
Spray five, 'Catch A Predator' like Dateline
Cut from the cloth of a
Lost tribe of gladiators
Run the microphone or get
Your fucking hands amputated
"After six-thousand years the curse
Has ended! Who summoned
My spirit's from the depths of time?"
"I do! I command your help
In overthrowing my enemies!"
"Fool! What care I for such as you?
Begone, growling dog! Before my destruction
I was gathering magical powers for
The conquest of the world!
I shall yet build an everlasting
Empire of black magic!"
Dawn of civilization
Evil magicians fought for supremacy
"It’s mine! The ultimate power! Power
Which can convert thought waves
Into material action! There is nothing
I cannot do! Nothing!"
Anton LaVey, Fu-Manchu facial hair
Goons with the hateful stare
Move with palatial flare
Young Gary Busey but carry an Uzi
Young Cosby
Hairy pussies and strawberry roofies
Young Ozzy, creep in the grass
Spray with the milli-chrome
Ski mask on my face like it’s really cold
Summertime but my blood like icicles
Possessed by a demon whose
Name is undecipherable
The tip of every hollow twirl like a football
Shocking to see that half of your
Head’s what it took off
I’m like murder with the MAC-11
The fire swirling from the
Barrel like past redemption
Spas with the chopper
Savage like acid and vodka
I’m like the Grim Reaper but carry a shotgun
Met with culties that would go December close
When death approached the end is close
Yet to tote finesse to the freshest rose
Puffin reefer an Academy Marina
Slugs from my niner will make
You dance like a ballerina
Like dust in the wind
Like angels in the hellfire
Silent like a twelve-gauge in the jail riot
Opposite of Henry Hill, proper, stay quiet
Spray five, 'Catch A Predator' like Dateline
Cut from the cloth of a
Lost tribe of gladiators
Run the microphone or get
Your fucking hands amputated
"After six-thousand years the curse
Has ended! Who summoned
My spirit's from the depths of time?"
"I do! I command your help
In overthrowing my enemies!"
"Fool! What care I for such as you?
Begone, growling dog! Before my destruction
I was gathering magical powers for
The conquest of the world!
I shall yet build an everlasting
Empire of black magic!"