Lyrics World War Hulk - Ill Bill, Stu Bangas, Goretex

World War Hulk

My aura is that of Moses in the Torah
Nineteen eighty-nine on tour with Sepultura
Laughing while blasting Sabbath on acid
It’s the anthem
Rest in peace Ruck, I throw a tantrum
I’m the illest of Bills, the realest of goons
A fucking savage
Pull out my dick and piss on your shoes
Is Jay Z Illuminati?
Bohemian hov, alien roves
Elohemian probes realer than reptilian skulls
Trade crafts so nobody know who really involved
So much angel dust in my blood, I’m nearly embalmed
Blotter acid, Bobby Bronson, splatter cops with shotguns
Shots of vodka, shot the spot up with a box of Mossbergs
The bombs from the planes whistling slow
Always get paid, step in on that Dominican blow
Young sadist, the iron rabbi, selling crack in Vegas
Space Invaders, Uncle Howie cooked 'em but he made 'em taste it
Under your futon, trying to pop your wig out
By the 69th precinct, dying to take a pig out
No interference, 36 buildings, all clearance
Shoutout to bugger on the bus, rob bitches for their earrings
Rap Gary Holt, we cut these posers into veggie dumplings
Catch me indictment trying to cop the heavy something
Lord of detergent, black rabbi, feast of perversions
My lawyer’s coked out, he a beast 'cause it’s always urgent
The mega shells Bushmasters when I rock Gazelles
MK Ultra, gunfire and sulfur, trapping at hotels
Cocaine eggs dipped in colors, it ain’t close to Easter
Farragut and Ralph, the dope spot next to Tony’s Pizza
Got a thousand faces, this is just one of many
Two-thousand twenty, my blood fetish is customary
Stories of my demise have been reported
A mission sent for reconnaissance of the slaughtered
With this order, I’m the prince of disorder
I’m alive, a survivor without a mention of water
Your attempts have been thwarted
All attempts have been thwarted
My intentions of vengeance are engines for Rigor Mortis
Entrances of the aura intense as if I record 'em
But sentences written on the park benches I was brought up on
Lyrics jotted on my skin and blood-written
Wasn’t around in my head, shit I was bug-bitten
Bedridden, drug smitten, in and out of love with 'em
It’s like I found what I said inside a drug kitchen
Picture Dominican blow with a boatload to sell
Two bitches wired of the 'Gnac, they both from Brazil
Breath reeking of soak or pussy, Coco Chanel
Jesus hanging from my neck hoping I don’t go to hell
Another afternoon on a dog day
Word to God I’m evolved in a hard way
For you to fuck with me stupid that would be an odd play
How quickly we can turn this shit to bullets over Broadway
Car thief jumper, Nazi thumper
New-school Archie Bunker, watch me hunker
Down impossibly be drunk again dumb fuck
And beat the Liberace batty boy punk up, I’m uncut