ILL BILL, Lil’ Fame, Shabazz the Disciple - Vio-Lence lyrics

I'm from where the murderers ride
If you heard that I died you
Probably vision me shot up
And laying on the stretcher
Cause, I ain't the nigga that
Die from high blood pressure
My demise in the midst of a crime go fresher
Look at his eyes he's ready to die
Lord bless him it is what it’s gonna be
Ain't much that worry me
Can’t care whether is 20 of us or one of me
Gun boys ride with us
Niggas still get yapped
Pistol whiped on all monitors
You know what time it is low nigga run up
Squeeze a couple shots in your shirt
Touch your best out to see if it work
(Brang! Brang)
My niggas get high, get drunk, go ape
Whoop you out for about 20
Minutes straight then we rotate
Straight put the beats on em, no brakes
Since way back in the days
Nigga's name hold weight
And we still active, still mashin'
Still inspiring, still shining, still firing
Violence is a universal language
Nah nigga you done pick the
Wrong nigga to bang with
(Brang-brang) We murder ya
BK nigga get down, the dirtiest, we bang
We give 'em the whole thang!

I'm from where the murderers ride
If you heard that I died
You probably picture a hollow bursting
Out of a nine
And splattered me when it popped
Jerked me out of my prime
My fam'll be mad of God
Cursing out of the sky
If violence begets violence and death
Rules everything around me
Dreams are really nightmares
In King’s County
And even though my daughter was born here
Slaughter and war go on here
You'll get your fucking wig blown off here
Let's put the mirror to the violence
An electrify spirit
That defines visionary riots
Military science, dignitary silence
Ambassadors are assassinated
From the war-room to the
Block assassinations are created
Murders are premeditated and orchestrated
By a symphony conductor
Sort of when sawed-offs are spraying
The rhythm of the gun shots is
Like a song is playing
Speaking in the same tongue to God
Like to talk to Satan

I'm from where the murderers ride
If you heard that I died
You’d probably picture me slumped over
The wheel in my ride
Drugs planted in the trunk
Being accused of a crime
Orchestrated by COINTELPRO the FBI
? all on the dashboard
Cause my spirit's to fly
Wanna see me scalpel ride?
Filled with formaldehyde
Police the modern day romans
Stolen profit's with nines
Like the prophets in black
Leaders of what they prophesized
Hood Christ crucified, two G’s on my side
My peter’s heater a sly
Cause my Judas demise
I pray I look my angel of
Death right in his eyes
You coming with me motherfucker
Finish this beef in the sky
These last earth memories
The sight was frightening
Hear thunder when the hood Christ
Striked the lightning
Ain’t no fuckin hail Mary’s, is hail of slugs
Brain dead on your deathbed
Family pull the plug