[Intro]

The tragedy of war is that these horrors [bad word] by normal men in abnormal situations. Situations in which the ebb and flow of everyday life have departed and have been replaced by a constant round of fear and anger, blood and death.

[Verse 1: Ill Bill]

Murder ? burner, smoke ? you 
Coka take you from your birth to the hearse to the earth homes, nice to know you 
I spell victory “W-A-R” 
Walking through your front door spraying the AR 
Vaporized pools of breath, rituals of death 
Twin sisters giving head holding the pistol to your head  [bad word] listening to your lies, I put the pistol to your eye 
Rituals with live chickens and kitchen knives 
? y’all [bad word] ? and y’all [bad word] children 
Stabbed and killed them, threw them off the top of an abandoned building 
Acid and pills, crack pipes, krillz, meth laboratories 
Slaughter married victory, death buried glory 
My nine pop you, TEC spray, you get bodied 
Ride on you like a [bad word] Angel on a Harley 
Heavy Metal King, emperor of the north star 
Devils forever bring endless war till we all gone

[Verse 2]

Burning torture papers over forty acres 
Is getting more glory, haters ain’t no telling all your stories later 
This a death trap, the casket close 
No last kiss from mom, the gat’s exposed 
I see pallbearers as victims and raw terror 
It’s our era, our teradome with a metronome don’t cause error 
Toe-tag more [bad word] in a little bit 
Cops too, you know the boy Planet on that Philly [bad word] 
Coka, Outerspace, murder, death, kill murder 
Music for the morgue, my mausoleums and y’all ? 
This is blood where the flowers grow 
Livestock in a pine box where the cowards go 
I hate to be [bad word] truthful 
This a rifle, this thing could beautifully shoot you 
See the bullets ricocheting off of [bad word] you saying 
Hit you point blank, official with the pistol aiming

[Verse 3]

This game is filled with parasites and opportunists 
That [bad word] y’all do is [bad word]  that is not a movement 
Too many acting goonish slash acting foolish 
I stash a full clip, put em in a trauma unit 
Gorilla misfit, mechanical arm 
Inverted [bad word] chain piece, magical charm 
Turn Bible verses into tragical psalm 
Y’all wanna know what type of planet we on 
I’m strapped with a bomb yeah and my pen is the detonator 
Make the world collapse soon as it press the paper 
Never seen a blue sky, never stressed the hater 
I only hear [bad word] lies, this is what I’m made of 
No time for tomorrow, never gonna settle later 
I don’t two-for-ones, I don’t peddle phrases 
I’m trying to rock yellow glaciers on a metal bracelet 
We build the city of God and make the ghetto spacious

[Verse 4: Slaine]

Odds stacked against a man, push him to the brink 
God’s sacrilegious plan, dog stacking hundred grands 
Tell me what you what you think 
Got my butcher knife, I’ll cut you like it’s nothing 
Cause it’s nothing, now you gushing in the sink 
You ain’t nothing like your records, why you lying like you violent? 
You ain’t calm under pressure, you just harmless and silent 
Never been inside of this environment that I’m in 
My city’s like a jungle and my mind’s an asylum 
My moves are unpredictable, my rituals despicable 
My lyrics [bad word]  my ? is invisible 
Apparently these people isn’t into what I’m into 
It’s simple cause my feet are firm 
I never gave an inch to you 
I’m mental on the [bad word]  loony off the snare 
Too grimy for the radio, they threw me off the air 
I’m an outcast, my forecast is rough and gloomy 
You can’t [bad word] move me dog, this ain’t nothing to me, c’mon