| Anton LaVey, Fu-Manchu facial hair
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| Goons with the hateful stare
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| Move with palatial flare
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| Young Gary Busey but carry an Uzi
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| Young Cosby, hairy pussies and strawberry roofies
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| Young Ozzy, creep in the grass, spray with the milli-chrome
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| Ski-mask on my face like it’s really cold
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| Summertime but my blood like icicles
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| Possessed by a demon whose name is undecipherable
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| The tip of every hollow twirl like a football
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| Shocking to see that half of your head’s what it took off
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| I’m like murder with the MAC-11
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| The fire swirling from the barrel like past redemption
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| Spas with the chopper, savage like acid and vodka
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| I’m like the Grim Reaper but carry a shotgun
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| Met with culties that would go December close
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| When death approached the end is close
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| Yet to tote finesse to the freshest rose
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| Puffery from an Academy Marina
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| Slugs from my niner will make you dance like a ballerina
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| Like dust in the wind, like angels in the hellfire
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| Silent like a twelve-gauge in the jail riot
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| Opposite of Henry Hill, proper, stay quiet
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| Spray five, 'Catch A Predator' like Dateline
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| Cut from the cloth of a lost tribe of gladiators
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| Run the microphone or get your fucking hands amputated
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| «After six-thousand years the curse has ended! |
| Who summoned my spirits from the
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| depths of time?»
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| «I do! |
| I command your help in overthrowing my enemies!»
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| «Fool! |
| What care I for such as you? |
| Begone, growling dog! |
| Before my destruction,
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| I was gathering magical powers for the conquest of the world! |
| I shall yet
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| build an everlasting empire of black magic!» |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Septagram , by - Ill Bill. Song from the album Septagram, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп