(feat. King Just, Leatha Face, Polite, Profes)



[Chorus]

[Cappadonna] "Too Ill, I represent Park Hill"

[Streetlife] "Killah Hill District"

[Inspectah Deck] "Killah Killah Hill"



[Polite]

Yo where I come from, you coward niggaz are scared to come

Where my dogs blast guns that'll leave yo' ass numb

Live niggaz move silent, come recognize 'em

Yo, you don't bust, yo toss 'em off the Verrazano, nigga fuck 'em

Stakes is higher, never trust a fuckin liar

Send him to his moms tied up in barbed wire

You fuckin bastard, everything we spit is hazard

Master this rap shit, another Killah Hill classic

Nuclear weapon, come on, we gotta hear the recipe

Hit you with the same slug that killed Kennedy

We do this for the Hell of it and my wolves ain't smellin it

Killah Hill nigga, all that bullshit's irrellevant



[Profes]

Killah Hill smacks flames out you, speak fire

And deep fry you if you want beef like Meyers

Smash you like car tires, shoes stars buyers

Playin us close, shouldn't have jumped off the wires

Y'all rappers is a bunch of faggots, tellin war stories

If you're a real live warrior for two full moon halice

Creap through like Wallace, you ain't the wildest

Son you're feminine like hair stylists

Staten Island, slugs tear through ya palace

Packed guns have you in Wonderland like Alice

Any nigga step to Profes get embarrased

My wolves let 'em have it, Lounge Lo mackin his carriage



[Chorus x4]



[Lounge Mode]

Yo, you fake fucks duckin the ratchet, we see the big hole

That cannon ball type, let's fight to make ya wig blow

Though Wiggs knows I'm still Loungin at the Ooh

One crew, Baby Vern, Clocka Dot and Boy Blue

But still, I'm Too Ill I represent Park Hill

Swear them niggaz like to spark but in the dark they kill

It's on, you know the style, word bond, you know we wild

Perform on the song, I brought along some extra arms

It be the work of the slang spit with WP

And Cream Team, the O.T.F. is in me

The elevator shaft BlackOut! Leatha Face take the Mac out

Polite get 'em, L.G.P. count the stack out

We bounce out the back door and smack son

Clap him with the four, make sure you push back dunn

Cuz where I'm from my niggaz don't play

And by the way my niggaz won't say

who spit ten in the gun blaze



[King Just]

Eh-yo I came from the place with perfect MC's

The best weed rollers when it came to the trees

The baddest hustlers to the worst car thieves

When delf breathed first, jumped out, the wrong keys

Since the Paris Crew and Avenue had me

I was rappin in beast, had my name in the streets

Killah Hill-a, was all in Park Villa

If we didn't stay in town and you wasn't down nigga

How you figure they gon' make a Hill track

And don't put K.J. back on the map?

He's back! It's gon' take a nation to hold us

Just as highly to score 10304 and King Just



[Leatha Face]

We ain't came from under the stairs, when facin peers

It's a rare scene similar to the bloody version of Shakespeare

Trap snakes in a snare, precussion flares

My function here is the discuss to strength, don't talk

Spray sidewalks, yap him, cut his hair

Why your jaws higher than the law?

Ya force spit by the scorpion's Tai

Scorched ya flame torch, train of thought blazed off

Mock waterized, FAM Othorized, flame off the side

Die by the scorpion's eyes

Pull the five, acquire the metal, get side of logic

We deposit flame generators, from Clifton Projects

Heart of darkness, frame twisted in the figure eight position

Engrave an incision on ya face big as the state of Michigan



[Chorus x5]



[Chorus x4: Cappa only]