Madchild - Super Ill Villain lyrics

It's Mad Child the super ill villain
The Canadian werewolf if not getting
Into America right now but, I'll be back
Battle axe warriors hold that
Shit down for me

Bounty hunter like Boba Fett
Inspector Gadget with the go-go jet
People look at me saying, "Boy that man bad"
Warrior like Braveheart, Troy, and Mad Max
Striker with the battle axe
Mic I can shatter that
Glad I got my shadow back
Riding in the Cadillac
Coupe de Ville chilling super ill villain
Won’t let me in the States
But my group’s still killing
You don’t really want to try
To hurt my feelings
That’s when your blood could
Squirt to the ceiling
Rob Vike chilling, Prev-one chilling
What more can I say? I’m still in
Even though I’m not there still top billing
Ice T got away with songs about cop killing
I was being good
That’s what I call raw dealings aw fuck it
I don’t even care I’mma leave it there
I’m lucky to be even fucking breathing air

Hey Mad Child, crawl into a corner and die
I can’t do that, I still must try
This is all I’m put on this earth for
All my other friends are busy
Caught in a turf war

Cops still treat me like I am in a gang
But how could I be? I don’t do anything
All I do is stay home, write rhymes
And work out
Praying everything is gonna work out

Hey to make it in this game
Is like winning the jackpot
These days you don’t need a label
Just a laptop
Rapping has failed and turned into a crackpot
So I suggest a second job if you a have not
Anything, selling drugs, pouring blacktop
You can’t eat off Facebook getting mad props
Old and broke
That shit’ll leave you in a bad spot
Shooting videos with grandma’s kitchen
As the backdrop
Okay, I know my time is coming
Feel like I’m gonna blast off
Cause, I got nothing left to lose
I rap my ass off
I listen to these rappers, mad soft
Cause everybody sound the same, flash mob
See I can do that too but it won’t last dog
So I said fuck it and choose to do exact opp
So how I’m gonna turn this
Shit into a cash crop?
Shit, I’mma keep on spitting
Till the last drop

Hey Mad Child, crawl into a corner and die
I can’t do that, I still must try
This is all I’m put on this earth for
All my other friends are busy
Caught in a turf war

Cops still treat me like I am in a gang
How could I be? I don’t do anything
All I do is stay home, write rhymes
And work out
Praying everything is gonna work out