[Verse 1: ILL BILL]
I spit that floating Pentagram, my beard resemble Baphomet
Black hoodie with a black robe and the staff of death
Mullets and mustaches, tiger print muscle tees
Hustle Gs, a drug dealer's dream is a hundred keys
Enter the Supercoven, shoot your mother, Joe Fixit
Coke bricks and scopes click into rifles, approach business
Like an octopus, duck down when the shotgun bust
Cannibal Hulk equal vodka multiplied by dust
Superhuman strength, lift cars and save little kids' lives
Like Ol' Dirty Bastard in his prime I'm a
Menace to a society they cannot define me
I'm so high right now I can't even define what high means!
Haha, I feel I have a greater purpose though
Spit that purple dro, murder flow like Kurtis Blow
Gun warm in my palm although my arm cold
What awaits me in the beyond, only God knows
Anton LaVey had a pet lion, I'mma get rich or dead trying
On them projects steps with the sket iron
Ops get rocked and robbed, from the mouth of God
Pop the fuck off like Al-Shabaab

[Chorus: ILL BILL]
My killers ugly like Joe Cocker
Rock you to sleep like cold vodka
You in the trunk now all chopped off
I'm Father Yod with the hang glider
With fourteen wives battle for whose pussy tighter
My killers ugly like Joe Cocker
Rock you to sleep like cold vodka
You in the trunk now all chopped off
I'm Father Yod with the hang glider
With fourteen wives battle for whose pussy tighter
[Verse 2: Goretex]
I'm like Subarus in '86, Camaros, cable links and pharaohs
Trigger finger, styrofoam or potato barrels
Agent Steel, Tatum O'Neal, sleeves and gumdrops
Hustle anything that alter, PCP or crushed rock
Triple pack, Mackenzie Phillips, basement kin
If you worked for it, no need to hit it, makin' a sale
I'm like Brando on Letterman, I cop Denalis off elephants
From cellophane to tenements to heavy developments
Glenwood fortunes, water bugs jumping out refrigerators
Deep cook, he slip a body up in the incinerator
Coffin Syrup we drinkin', bone fragments and trinkets
I don't have to kill 'cause I think it, Charlie's wig, Mayas and Incas
The kind of Hulk, get this torch from the face of carnage
Got Amber Lynn hooked on meth, the coven of preggo starlets
Major targets, starving bitches on the razor carpet
Harvester of Blood — apartment 6A, staying sharp as barbers

[Chorus: ILL BILL]
My killers ugly like Joe Cocker
Rock you to sleep like cold vodka
You in the trunk now all chopped off
I'm Father Yod with the hang glider
With fourteen wives battle for whose pussy tighter
My killers ugly like Joe Cocker
Rock you to sleep like cold vodka
You in the trunk now all chopped off
I'm Father Yod with the hang glider
With fourteen wives battle for whose pussy tighter