[Verse 1: ILL BILL]
Our society love murderers, love war, love bloodshed
Love the scene of an accident when someone's dead
We love violence, we can't turn away: The Colosseum
Throw ‘em in the arena and watch the lions eat 'em
Music and movies are the mirrors of this madness
Some morbid mural of morticians upon the canvas
A beautifully composed symphony of sickness, bear witness
Reality's much worse, predictions of apocalypse
Found in the books of religious architects
Arguments hidden in forbidden documents
Consequence, Bowling for Columbine
Anatomy of School Shootings
Bloods and Crips of Brooklyn is no longer a new thing
Death is certain, we all die whether it's from natural causes or not
Nobody really knows why
But if there's one thing I know, Death holds a place
In his heart for murderers, take a look at his face

[Chorus: Mr. Hyde]
Death smiles at murder
Pain shakes the hand of homicide
We all die, it's certain
Can't change the path that's prophesied

[Verse 2: ILL BILL]
Some people murder for money
Other people murder for hate
Some murder for love
A lot of people murder for drugs
There's really fucked up people that need a murder to cum
And some of y'all motherfuckers even murder for fun
They might stab you up with a knife or shoot you with guns
That's when the black coroner van usually comes
Some murderers are strange drifters or depraved sickos
Like Gary Heidnik, Gein, Bundy, Berkowitz and J. Rifkin
A lot of murderers you wouldn't suspect
He kept to himself, never bothered anyone, they said
He was a simple guy with a simple life, till he killed his wife
Got a first taste of doing something he liked
Some murderers are famous
And they wind up in a Ford Bronco
With a gun in they mouth like O.J. did
No matter who the fuck you are, Death has a place
In his heart for murderers, take a look at his face
[Chorus: Mr. Hyde]