Ill Bill

Ill Bill - Murder '93 songtekst

Je score:

MURDER, MURDER, MURDER

KILL, KILL, KILL

murder, murder hehehehe, murder



MURDER, MURDER, MURDER

KILL, KILL, KILL

"At first I harass them, then I murder them" [x2]



Last night a bitch bust my crib and found a carcass

Tried to press charges

But I walked free regardless

Like, Tony Montana

My trigger finger got stamina

You mess around and I'll BLAM BLAM in ya

Ramming your body parts down the cindering slots

I'm chopping your off then drop your pieces off a rooftop

Re-animator

Creator of the murder data

The Terminator

I murder, then I see you later

Living dead, stomping the streets of Brooklyn like a zombie

I come to eat your brain like a piece of salami

Contaminate you like a biohazard

Because I'm a sick bastard

2000 maniacs call me master

And they obey everything I say, no question

Suicide, plus more confession maintain aggression

Mr. Ill Bill brings your body to the blood feast

I'm the piece of  corps condemned great tooled priest

Bodies, on top of bodies I instigate mutilation

Under federal investigations

Kathy Pears disappeared like all the children

2000 maniacs locked in my building



[Chorus x2]



I get hyper with a butcher knife and a hash pipe

But pack with parts all my brain cells apart

Assorted body parts I'm starting to stab and chop up

Cover the floor with plasma, then I mop up

Unless I get dressed to kill when I spill

you guts,

Ill Bill the butcher ghost doesn't do manorial

Chop chop then pop, with the glock

go get my clip, then flip and pop pop pop pop

goes my gat

I'm flipping psychopathic spastic  drastic

nuclear plastic putting people to caskets

All of a sacrifice

I'm gentle  like Charles Manson

Crematoria people sleeps in a glancing

Ashes burnt, ?-?

undead, humanoid  end of the sent a laving

Like leukaemia, fights chemo therapy

The brain cancer, extravaganza

directs me, infects me

condemns me to the Brooklyn floors

Like price my pounce are stripes  two heads like spikes

make nice, nice since I got a nadge to grind

I blind kids by poking out their eyes with my knifes

So, die, die, die, drop dead, die

you painted my face, popsicles to my brain

Bronchitis, septic virus, verbal colitis

bottom strides

girls get on top of guys

beyond the graves, slash in a bloodbath

Bubble, bubble toys bring trouble

zombies arrive, and you'll all be adopted

strapped with gats so - step - BACK



[Chorus]



I been twisting fresh hits and grotesque torsions

I use a chainsaw, when I'm performing an abortion

I stack up bodies so back up , before I make my hatchet hack up,

and use your lifeblood's to grease the track up

I grab you then I stab you in the skull with a scalpel

Make your brain madder flatter and some part of rather doubtful

Blood everywhere and your hardly even breathing

I kick you to the face and make the flat line even

there's no tomorrow I'm the hardest stir of sorrow

Beyond the gates and wait backwards like Bizarro

Bizarre, strange, got maggots in my brains

Faggots roll down the hill and burn, burn in the FLAMES



[Chorus x2]
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Taal: Engels

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