ILL BILL, STU BANGAS, Goretex - Shiva Call lyrics

Anyone ever die in your arms you cocksucker?
A family member? Someone you love? No
Well give it time
See if I can't make that happen for you

Check it, yo
Fit chrome stick up kids and coke sluts
My friends rip ATMs out of
Walls with tow trucks
Bunch of Crazy Eddies with machetes
Sprinkle a little snow up
Top instead of cherries
They had a shoot out in the lobby
A hollow ricocheted off the intercom
Knobs and popped little Tommy
The projects gave me a sense of humor
Fuck expensive shooters
My goons are Freddy Krugers
Love my jacuzzi and my limousine
But all I need is my Uzi and my triple beam
Flirting with tenderonies
(what up ma?) , perverted ceremonies
Pour a little liquor for our dead homies

Pour a little liquor for our dead homies
Pour a little liquor for our dead homies

Kill any fella
After prosciutto, oil and mozzarella
Mortadella dave Mustaine veins
Hit ’em like Lou Piniella
Baking soda, undercovers looking like Yanni
They want coke
Stu gobbled up in the Maserati cutting soap
Ten commandments
Get them bagged up, elephant grams
80's fish scale like pelicans
Cubans with twenty plants
All she wanna do is dance
Van Halen coke vixen
Met her on Southern and Pickern
Face mask tradition
Windows tinted like the eye on a pigeon
Surgical precision
Stove tops, cook crack and crush victims
Hebrew scholar
Quick to bomb your car for a dollar
Spit the Qabbalah
MC Lyte razor teeth to my collar
Stay hot 'cause I got the
Same tailor as Tex Watson
Impaled Nazarene in the Datsun
From Brooklyn to Yonkers

Pour a little liquor for our dead homies
Pour a little liquor for our dead homies
Pour a little liquor for our dead homies
Pour a little liquor for our dead homies