Lyrics The Vice Of Killing - Ill Bill, Vinnie Paz, Heavy Metal Kings

The Vice Of Killing

It’s a burgundy bath;
everybody get turned into ash
Being evil just something I made my personal task
The G36 put you in surgery fast
Everybody die regardless who first or who last
Death almost got me twice but he mercifully passed
I’ll take your face off without using surgical masks
I wouldn’t call it an ego but I’m certainly gassed
This isn’t the Desert Eagle but it certainly smash
If I don’t get money from rhyming, that’s a fateful day
I might have to take it back to the kitchen like Rachael Ray
I don’t put no work in with bitches, I’m trying to scrape today
Anywhere in my environment is not the place to play
If I’m hungry, in need of food, I’ll pull a skully down
I don’t fuck with workers, I’m gunning whoever run the town
I got enough clips with me to spit a hundred rounds
I’m the father of Christ and y’all are just the son of clowns
I don’t think that y’all can fuck with Vinnie but let’s see
I’mma have this fucking Llama looking like Jet Li
Everybody who is anybody respect me
I’ll have you bleeding out your back like it’s a jet ski
Motherfucker, what’s really real, really ill?
Run up on you, hit you with Israeli steel, yo we really will
Through windshields, windpipes and car seats
You die on the Belt Parkway next to Canarsie
Brutal tribes indulge in slavery and human sacrifice
The shooters pack devices capable of proving lack of life
With no compassion, ratchet action, flashing, fashion
Blast for cash, assassins faster than the flash
Amass a body count, surpass the sound barrier
And shattered by the splatter, rattled you
Waking, shake you sober
Gats that kick back and dislocate your shoulder
Decapitate your head and chop you in half, pop you and laugh
Rob you with gats, find you amongst the cowards and fags
Find me holding the rifle on the watchtower with plans
Don’t ever underestimate me or the power of Paz
Lock you in the room with the lion, now how would you last?
You can’t fight the king of the jungle, he’ll devour you fast
Put you underneath the dirt next to the flowers and grass
At the funeral mommas and dads get showered with gats
You kill one us and we’ll kill one of you;
counterattack
Thousands of stacks from hustling these powders and cracks
I fucking pick and peel your chain, Official Pistol Gang
From Kill Devil Hills to Pennsylvain, we be gripping change
You little pencil-brains;
before I lose to you
I’ll cut my nuts and slit my veins
All y’all do is bitch-complain
Henny and pills, plenty of steel
On the block with fifties and krill, word to Vinnie and Bill
In South Philly for real, my hood is guineas and Campbells
Niggas and dirty Irish who think that they SAMCRO
And oh, my fan know the stream, fuck the man yo
No book 'em, Danno, you ain’t Rambo
Don’t put twenty in your hand bone when my fam roam
That’s when the grams go, soft white
My niggas call it that damn snow
And fuck hip-hop, I got sick pot in Ziplocs
I get from stoners in Cali;
rocking flip-flops
One brand is called Sit-Stop cause after one hit
That bitch’ll have you dancing with the stars like Rick Fox
Yo, we have walked back together to gorillas and wolves
The illest of goons, the room is filled with killers and booze
Pretty soon we breaking in your office building with tools
Assassinate the CEO for catching feelings and moods
The steel at the moon got us raising hell on the block
If they manipulate us like a pretty face and smelly twat
Tell me what is power, cash, hand, guns, and hoorah
A brutal task between thieves, priests, nuns and Korans
I’m on a path that has the cash, has bigger and better things
I’ve been with veteran medicine men headed to Medellin
Bring the noise and avoid the vicious cycle of prison
It’s all poison, Kool G Rap, Michael Bivins
Speed of NASCAR «vroom»
Madagascar soon, consume a rock star «Ooh!»
Allahu Akbar «boom!»
Wounded and killed, rumors are real
Israeli steel caught your peoples in the grill
Now the tomb is concealed