Make Them Die Slowly - Ill Bill

Slaytanic cannibal rituals, welcome to the jungle holocaust

Chop you to pieces beyond modern laws

You and your friends with the yellow hairs

We don’t understand the weird language you speak, but we can tell you’re scared

And rightfully so;

the nerve, how dare you spitefully roam our turf

Western man;

entitled bullies of earth

The world is yours?

There’s five of you, but hundreds of us

And here you stand, empty handed

Besides a duffel of guns, hand 'em over

We don’t use these in the jungle

They’re for false gods and wannabe conquerors

We seen your kind before, funny beige hats and mustaches

Pop said never trust a savage with a satellite and hundreds of cameras

I put a apple in they mouth and roast 'em

I like to toast 'em with a marshmallow stuffed up they asshole

And hopefully amongst their bitches there’s a virgin for the sacrifice

Cannibal voodoo leave you murdered in the afterlife

Dance with umfufu, dinner served lit by candlelight

Kill, eat, fuck, is the law;

no murder charge

You and your squad turned to burgers and kebabs

Cook you impaled on the sharpest of knives

The length of my speer’s like a machete got stuck up your arse

Still half alive, staring up at the stars

My favorite medium rare, center cut is the bomb