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Date of issue: 02.07.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Psycho+Logical
Song language: English
Overkill |
I make ruthless records consecutive |
Disconnect your wig, wet you in your living room |
Disrespect your crib, spit fire at you |
Pop pop, cause your body to ooze |
Bill, anything I spit’s uncle Howie approved |
There ain’t no justice and there ain’t no peace |
These mean streets are like the evil dead eager to feast |
Soul chasers will leave you diseased, what you get dealing with creeps |
People sleep until we cause the desert eagles to speak |
There’s no love and no loyalty left |
Learn ya lesson, the hood shot rich porter to death |
Only the hood die young, rest in peace to Jam Masta Jay |
Biggie and Pac, and all the rest who passed away |
I’m like an animal, trying to survive |
Striving for a better tomorrow, the world’s full of terror and sorrow |
Tears drop from a little baby boy or girl |
While the push of a button could destroy the world |
It’s a overkill, no escaping this we raping this homie |
It’s a overkill, expose to nuclear radiation |
It’s a overkill, push the chromosone chromosplode |
It’s a overkill, peep the overfiend overload |
Hit you with the nine shell in your head like Kleinfeld |
My mind’s swelled, I laugh at it like Seinfeld or Larry David |
Then blast off like Larry Davis |
We carry bangers and air you out like airplane hangers |
I rock 5 star general status, projects to Paris |
At the Hilton sticking foreign objects in Paris |
I’m very paranoid tell me what they asked you? |
Splash you |
Nuke you like fast food, splatter you when I clap tools |
I keep it simple like grass roots, attack troops |
Ghetto gorillas in track suits, wet up your whole shit like a bathroom |
I catch fools slipping and hit 'em with capsules of blow cause cash rules |
The truth newport carton junkies and street trash, wheat grass |
Customers cop hundreds of weed bags |
Yeah I was chosen to kill those who are smoking the krills |
Sold it to you out the old seville, yo you know the drill |
Go overboard, this is Ill Bill the overlord, go to war |
I approach you with a trojan horse, entire armies are slaughtered |
Explosions of gore, soldiers fall, hot enough to cause your bones to dissolve |
Go through walls, Let the don use it, mix it with orange juice and abuse it |
Throw your guns in the air and lose it, gangstas and goons with uzis |
We underhanded money, rubberbanded the son of sam, son of man |
People too stupid to understand, I’m the host with the most |
Travel coast to coast, rolling like nostra coke, when I post the toast |
Leave you wetter than PCP dispose of folks, loced out leave you with holes |
Your clothes are soaked, you fucking shithead your thought process is idiotic |
It gets worse blow a hole in your head, leave you retarded, look at you know |
Stupid fuck see what you started, I won’t stop till all of are dearly departed |
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