The Vice Of Killing - Ill Bill, Vinnie Paz, Heavy Metal Kings

It’s a burgundy bath;

everybody get turned into ash

Being evil just something I made my personal task

The G36 put you in surgery fast

Everybody die regardless who first or who last

Death almost got me twice but he mercifully passed

I’ll take your face off without using surgical masks

I wouldn’t call it an ego but I’m certainly gassed

This isn’t the Desert Eagle but it certainly smash

If I don’t get money from rhyming, that’s a fateful day

I might have to take it back to the kitchen like Rachael Ray

I don’t put no work in with bitches, I’m trying to scrape today

Anywhere in my environment is not the place to play

If I’m hungry, in need of food, I’ll pull a skully down

I don’t fuck with workers, I’m gunning whoever run the town

I got enough clips with me to spit a hundred rounds

I’m the father of Christ and y’all are just the son of clowns

I don’t think that y’all can fuck with Vinnie but let’s see

I’mma have this fucking Llama looking like Jet Li

Everybody who is anybody respect me

I’ll have you bleeding out your back like it’s a jet ski

Motherfucker, what’s really real, really ill?

Run up on you, hit you with Israeli steel, yo we really will

Through windshields, windpipes and car seats

You die on the Belt Parkway next to Canarsie

Brutal tribes indulge in slavery and human sacrifice

The shooters pack devices capable of proving lack of life

With no compassion, ratchet action, flashing, fashion

Blast for cash, assassins faster than the flash

Amass a body count, surpass the sound barrier

And shattered by the splatter, rattled you

Waking, shake you sober

Gats that kick back and dislocate your shoulder

Decapitate your head and chop you in half, pop you and laugh

Rob you with gats, find you amongst the cowards and fags

Find me holding the rifle on the watchtower with plans

Don’t ever underestimate me or the power of Paz

Lock you in the room with the lion, now how would you last?

You can’t fight the king of the jungle, he’ll devour you fast

Put you underneath the dirt next to the flowers and grass

At the funeral mommas and dads get showered with gats

You kill one us and we’ll kill one of you;

counterattack

Thousands of stacks from hustling these powders and cracks

I fucking pick and peel your chain, Official Pistol Gang

From Kill Devil Hills to Pennsylvain, we be gripping change

You little pencil-brains;

before I lose to you

I’ll cut my nuts and slit my veins

All y’all do is bitch-complain

Henny and pills, plenty of steel

On the block with fifties and krill, word to Vinnie and Bill

In South Philly for real, my hood is guineas and Campbells

Niggas and dirty Irish who think that they SAMCRO

And oh, my fan know the stream, fuck the man yo

No book 'em, Danno, you ain’t Rambo

Don’t put twenty in your hand bone when my fam roam

That’s when the grams go, soft white

My niggas call it that damn snow

And fuck hip-hop, I got sick pot in Ziplocs

I get from stoners in Cali;

rocking flip-flops

One brand is called Sit-Stop cause after one hit

That bitch’ll have you dancing with the stars like Rick Fox

Yo, we have walked back together to gorillas and wolves

The illest of goons, the room is filled with killers and booze

Pretty soon we breaking in your office building with tools

Assassinate the CEO for catching feelings and moods

The steel at the moon got us raising hell on the block

If they manipulate us like a pretty face and smelly twat

Tell me what is power, cash, hand, guns, and hoorah

A brutal task between thieves, priests, nuns and Korans

I’m on a path that has the cash, has bigger and better things

I’ve been with veteran medicine men headed to Medellin

Bring the noise and avoid the vicious cycle of prison

It’s all poison, Kool G Rap, Michael Bivins

Speed of NASCAR «vroom»

Madagascar soon, consume a rock star «Ooh!»

Allahu Akbar «boom!»

Wounded and killed, rumors are real

Israeli steel caught your peoples in the grill

Now the tomb is concealed