Ill Bill - Offensive Lines lyrics

[Hook] Come on, with me [Verse 1: Slaine] They say this story is a myth and they bore my with they if's They can never understand me, notorious is is A fighter fallen deep into the warriors abyss I got a mixed up past, it warrants me to flip I got my dick s**ed fast, in the sixth grade from a b**h With a switchblade who used to twist up gra** She never learned nothing cuz' the b**h cut cla** I never learned nothing either, but puffin reefer and stuffing beaver I grew into a sick f** fast An unstable addle My dumb neighbors taddle Cops knocking on the door, I do my thing no ha**le I'm saying I ain't playing I am the king of this castle The casa of the a**hole The cash when you pa**code You little local rappers back off, I'm international Stamps in my pa**port Billboards in Moscow Phone ringing off the hook I can't answer it, not now [Hook] Come on, with me [Verse 2: Action Bronson] So they told me, they never disown me and I believed it The gold oakley lenses reflecin' and deceivin' Chicken sh**, f**ing p**y, a**hole If not for me, you wouldn't even have a cash flow Never held a gun but you blast though Haha stupid I'm in there getting money You in there playing cupid I'm coming through in a coupe without the roof in b**h by my side with the a** strictly for boofing Enough of that though, never judge a book off a first look Just a cook off the first tote If its right then you sell it, get a good boat And if ya lucky, get a shorty with a wood throat No yeast, you f**ing with the three beasts Deca Durabolin shooting three CC's Get off the wenis, make her kiss the rim Sour intravenous, piss away the sin [Hook] Come on, with me [Verse 3: Ill Bill] Yo, they say this story is a myth But I'm gloriously sick, Ill Bill, I'm like a walking emporium of piff I abacinate, poke you in the cornea with spliffs I a**a**inate, smoke you and your shorty with the fifth I will lacerate, cut you up and throw you in the car trunk Ask who's great, you could be the last thing these maggots taste Tie your feet and hands with tape, dead rats stuffed up in ya' mouth Lock you in the casket, now you can't escape Homie you a b**h, throw you in the ditch Smother you in dirt, with the worms, now you don't exist Murder is my favorite thing, body everything Pull out the chopper like Harley Davidson and start spraying things We La Coka Nostra, gun jam, beat you with the broken toaster Leave you in the dumpster in the back of Roll-N-Roaster On Emmons Avenue, splatter you, having you crying to Zeus like Olivia New, Xanadu [Hook] Come on, with me, set your self free Let the music take you away