Ill Bill

Ill Bill - Dope Fiend '94 songtekst

Je score:

[Verse 1]

Let me get that needle, pass it,

When it comes to the get high, baby I'm a junky bastard

The fastest, so I'm a flow exempt me

Let me get a dozen bagels and a ???

Now please arrest me, officer,

'Cause I started lookin' in the Nautica

Polo, Tommy Hillfiger sweater

Mr. Woody Harrilson couldn't do no better

I'm Natural Born to the motherfuckin' letter

For pleasure, I dig out your brain like treasure

Take your blood pressure, examine, measure

Discover, twenty years ago I fucked your mother

I'm a born junky, I'll never recover



[Chorus x2]

Let me get that needle, pass it, when it comes to bein' the dope fiend,

Kid I got's to have it

Let me get that needle, pass it, when it comes to the get high,

Baby I'm a junky bastard



[Verse 2]

I be gettin' voodoo raw like Greek sex

I'm searchin' for six chicks wit' sloppy tits hangin' off their chests

Fuck kickin' flavor in your ear,

I'd rather kick you in your fuckin' cunt, then rip off your brassiere

I'm here, Mr.  I-double-L-B,

A-double-L, puffin' on a nick a crack in my jail-cell

They pay me well for my services

When I murder kids, I orgasm

Then I get rid of the evidence

Left up on the scene of the crime

I spit back inside of my mouth when I rhyme

Bloody, little punk ass, rudy-dudy

Let me get your crack-rock and all your money

Sonny, I'm a fuckin' sicky

I'm a six-inch it in then toss you in the lake like Ricki

Illin' like a handy-capped spaz

Peep the soup-bass, rippin' out the frame of your ass



[Chorus x2]



[Verse 3]

Walkin' through the rain, I saw you

You were holdin' hands, I'm startin' to feel like Orange Juice Jones

I don't really care if you just returned your glasses

I'm a take a butcher knife to your sorry asses

(?) Stop fantasizing about pizza-pies wit' (?)

Body parts n shit, get your fuckin' throat slit

'Cause I'm a modern crazy guy, you're all gonna die

So why even bother actin' fly on the plane to Chicago

Call Hertz rent a rental car

Think your crazy 'cause you got a scar

Think again, I'll cut you again

I'm a put that doody-casserole inside of your mother's oven



[Chorus x2]
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Taal: Engels

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