"And now it's time bring out the headliner for the evening..."

"Very Special... Please welcome to the stage..."

(Goretex)

Escape from New York, but I be on some Brooklyn bullshit

I pull clips as fast as I dose chicks with ope tits

Call me Necor, set the coke surviving the sticks

Got my name all in your mouth like your liable to brick

Click me on the tube, chain swinging down to my shoes

Light up the room, african boom, spark it and zoom

Disciple of rock, the type to range rifles and cops

I'm spiteful, fake's get left shaking like Michael J. Fox

(Ill Bill)

i deliver aids infected accupuncture

Gangster and hustler murderer and kidnap a suspect

rapper and dustheadwith Blood red to Crip blue

My shit's to colorful, running through with a hundred goons and maniacs

If a bitch like to suck dick, she a brainiac

Bust up in they mouth piece, see how they react, take it back

Like a instant replay, live in the PJ's, watching my Uncle freebase

Analyzing the angles on a fiend's face

I learn to love my trees lace, the way the PCP taste

The way it make me see things, old school dice spot bills and sheep skins

As I write, yes I'm rocking Iceberg jeans and Tims

Thinking where I'm going be in 2007

Either a house in the Hamptons or a house in Heaven

I be chillin on the beach in the South of Venice

Or merking the President live on Channel 7

[Chorus: DJ Premier scratches] - repeat 2X

"Coming through rocking"

"Wild like Rockstars who smash guitars" (Inspectah Deck)

"Non-Phixion"

"Unadulterated"

"Emcee's"

(Sabac Red)

I be Brooklyn till I die don't even question it twice

My crew's nice, late night at the corners we shooting dice

It's like, summertime in New York, jeans, shorts, tims, ??

Tanktops to roofies, groupies acting loosely

Who'll be, in a black drop, with his hat cocked, that can't block

Puff on the stove, get spit in snapshots 

I'm trying to live, feed the kids, drive some whips, handle biz

Own a crib, do my shit, in the streets, that's how it is

(Ill Bill)

If I say Rockstar, I'm talking about rocking the mic

My shit's hot like the rock fiend dropping a pipe

These cats are idiots, with raps so pussy they catch period's

I'm serious, my life is like a drug experience

A porno movie with no plot and I'm the only guy in it

Like Vivid video's with Kobe Tai dime bitches

Ill Bill rap crusader, chilling in the black Navigator

Canarsie to Pennsylvania

"Wild..."

"Like..."

"Rock...Rockstars"

"Who...Who smash guitars"

Chorus 1x

(Goretex)

Break Mumia out, bang you with shells and heaters out

Blast off the terrorist, blow bombs and speakers out

Hookers and bricks, gutter cats, bitches and pimps

Cripples and Gimps, ex-cons, pushers and tricks

Street poet, speak the essence, what's realer than this

Up in the club smoked out coke, the feeling of Cris

You lighting the wrist, Richard Simmons fro with a pick

Taking my record label hostage if they stompin my shit

(Sabac Red)

I remember them cold nights and long lines for clubs

Now it's strictly V.I.P., free drinks and drugs

Pounds and hugs, getting back rubs, be them Underground thugs

Stay street but got new found love, take a Continental, driver rental

Travel the globe, Non Phixion to the end worldwide we rock shows

Explode from out the projects, Glenwood to Drysneck

Hold your drink up, and make a toast to how the gods get

[Chorus] - 2x