Slaine, ILL BILL, Q-Unique - Science of the Trife lyrics

It was the time of his life
A capitalist with a communist wife
The Bushes are reptilians and Obama is white
I can feel it in the air
I got some bad karma tonight
Something is wrong, I think my mom is right
I never should have left but
Quitting is good as death
It had to be written
You cats had to be put in check
I made a lot of moves you dudes wouldn’t get
I walked a lot of places in
This world you couldn’t step
I paid dues and made fools
Out of you fake goons
Seen eight noons straight, I can’t sleep
I hate i sniff coke from plates
Spoons, dollar bills, and shaved poon
Tang, headed for the grave soon
I’m just getting iller with
My thoughts lately
I would feel depressed if you
Started to not hate me i’m paranoid
Nodding off dreaming of getting shot
Waking up, hopping in the Navi with the Glock

You pushed my buttons
So here comes the nuclear man
This beat’s disgusting
Reminds me of a whore with crabs
Came to power in Canarsie
Southeast of Marcie
Kamikaze Anunnakis on Kawasakis
Bandana-faced killer call my
Chopper Tchotchke
And say if I’m amongst the chosen ones
Then God’s a Nazi
Haitian earthquakes, Hawaiian tsunamis
Arms dealers buying from Commies
Violence and murder, riots surround me
King’s County preaches strength proudly
Think rowdy when we hit ground zero bro
We bend soundwaves
Never doubt we’re passionate like
A Taliban firefight
Cameramen die for the story but what’s
The final price of life?
What’s the science of the trife?
Why do we exist?
Civilization is brainwashed, society is sick
I’m like a 1985 subway train ride
Get your chain robbed or stage dive
We stay live!

In a police chase with drugs and a stolen gun
Like Tiger Woods
Grab a nine iron and put a hole in one
Trying to escape the Devil’s deadly flames
But I’m a sex addict for
Tatted women like Jesse James
I look at the world through broken glass
What holds me from holding gats
Is when I’m lonely and smoking grass
If you know me show the cash
Homie I’m holding back
You’ll be folded holding an open gash
Powerful impact boom from the cannon
Catch a slap off the hands of
Doom from where you’re standing
Weed, crack and we’re soldiers
In Dapper Dan army fatigues
With black metal toasters
Fuck how nice you are, you one trick pony
A Mickey Rourke wrestler dying
Sick and lonely
A major sight is you and your
Rap partner in the cage tonight
Player, I made you fight, I’m Dana White