Ill Bill Follow

[Ill BilL]
Fuck the machine, I’m raging against the broke life
I love the cream, my sayings affect the coke price
My demons are devils to the things that I don’t like
Can I detach myself former I know it’s on trife
Murder assault, powed out a control type
Worshiping at the author of rhymes like a low life
Dress correct, heavy metal and brother roll tight
I’m obsessed with death, hell do something Sean Price
Know the tech kid is out of thunder
No respectable but fat like bounty hunter
No remorse, mega force records seeking the story
We kill em all, zip up the bag, bring em to the mall
Bring him to the coroner table then cut him up and look inside of him
Why the fuck would they think that someone lied to them?
Sold em the dead dreams, listening to philosophers
Going against me? Victory is impossible

[Hook x2]
Blood, money and death, dark side justice
Trust nothing except, dark side justice
Fuck love and respect, dark side justice
120% dark side justice

[Jus Allah]
My rap’s scary, it escaped from my Blackberry
Your rap stays trapped, it’s fake and imaginary
My rap full of guts and bad vocabulary
My rap has drug tracks and blood capillaries
It’s all cemetery, turn about mortuaries
I ain’t saying anything out of the ordinary
Not unusual, it’s the cult itinerary
Attending funerals with a dull contemporary
Whether it’s putting you in blind sense but never necessary
Gun straightened paper better than a secretary
With just one shot turn a jock into a Jerry
The Glock said we carry, turn The Rock into a fairy
Murder for no reason other than monetary
The devil made me do it, it’s involuntary
I keep clips and new papers obituaries
Behind a bookcase with a trick dictionary

[Hook x2]
Blood, money and death, dark side justice
Trust nothing except, dark side justice
Fuck love and respect, dark side justice
120% dark side justice

[Vinnie Paz]
It’s a perfect murder scene, a perfect murder about a perfect person
Blue Haria verse perfectly cursing a virgin
What’s the faculty of energy perfect exertion
Call me majesty, my words are conversed in a serpent
Pussy boy left the war, they call it desertion
I am dirty, I am opposite in every detergent
If it isn't a Grey Goose then it’s certainly Bourbon
I write my rhyme in Beirut with a Burgundy Bourbon
Hard body rap, punch you in the chatter box
I would never walk the hallways unless I had a ox
That’s the reason why they put me in patted box
I would’ve never been a problem if I had my pops
I pull motherfuckers cold like a magic shot
Mossberg means spin several medal savage shots
The heater hit the fuckin flesh like the cattle prod
My physical body’s the vehicle for wrath of God

[Hook x2]
Blood, money and death, dark side justice
Trust nothing except, dark side justice
Fuck love and respect, dark side justice
120% dark side justice