| Let me get that needle, pass it
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| When it comes to the get high, baby I’m a junky bastard
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| The fastest, so I’m a flow exempt me
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| Let me get a dozen bagels and a ???
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| Now please arrest me, officer
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| 'Cause I started lookin' in the Nautica
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| Polo, Tommy Hillfiger sweater
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| Mr. Woody Harrilson couldn’t do no better
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| I’m Natural Born to the motherfuckin' letter
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| For pleasure, I dig out your brain like treasure
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| Take your blood pressure, examine, measure
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| Discover, twenty years ago I fucked your mother
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| I’m a born junky, I’ll never recover
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| Let me get that needle, pass it, when it comes to bein' the dope fiend
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| Kid I got’s to have it
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| Let me get that needle, pass it, when it comes to the get high
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| Baby I’m a junky bastard
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| I be gettin' voodoo raw like Greek sex
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| I’m searchin' for six chicks wit' sloppy tits hangin' off their chests
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| Fuck kickin' flavor in your ear
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| I’d rather kick you in your fuckin' cunt, then rip off your brassiere
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| I’m here, Mr. I-double-L-B
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| A-double-L, puffin' on a nick a crack in my jail-cell
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| They pay me well for my services
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| When I murder kids, I orgasm
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| Then I get rid of the evidence
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| Left up on the scene of the crime
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| I spit back inside of my mouth when I rhyme
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| Bloody, little punk ass, rudy-dudy
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| Let me get your crack-rock and all your money
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| Sonny, I’m a fuckin' sicky
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| I’m a six-inch it in then toss you in the lake like Ricki
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| Illin' like a handy-capped spaz
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| Peep the soup-bass, rippin' out the frame of your ass
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| Walkin' through the rain, I saw you
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| You were holdin' hands, I’m startin' to feel like Orange Juice Jones
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| I don’t really care if you just returned your glasses
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| I’m a take a butcher knife to your sorry asses
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| (?) Stop fantasizing about pizza-pies wit' (?)
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| Body parts n shit, get your fuckin' throat slit
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| 'Cause I’m a modern crazy guy, you’re all gonna die
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| So why even bother actin' fly on the plane to Chicago
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| Call Hertz rent a rental car
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| Think your crazy 'cause you got a scar
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| Think again, I’ll cut you again
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| I’m a put that doody-casserole inside of your mother’s oven |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Dope Fiend '94 , by - Ill Bill. Song from the album The Early Years: Rare Demos '91-'94, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп