Ill Bill - The C.I.A. Is Trying to k** Me lyrics

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Ill Bill - The C.I.A. Is Trying to k** Me lyrics

[Ill Bill] Non-Phixion be the real hip hop We make you wanna k** cops Cats hate me, cause they know I fingered their girls' twat They feel helpless, real jealous, we k**ed Elvis I shot Reagan with the help of the secret service Super double agent, shoot your mother with my brother's favorite 12 gauge waving, aiming at your brain, strange universe, I'm too famous Leaving the murder scene blameless, drug entertainment Thugs that'll blaze with laser guns Saying what I wrote, they feel what I feel They see the same picture We make the biscuit do the talking and became richer Nobody gets a record deal, you gotta take that sh** Treat the record label like a s*ut, and rape that b**h I keep it simple for these stupid cats Claiming you knew the facts, but in reality, you were trapped Jesus Christ was a gangsta rapper They k**ed him then he came back and made a platinum album The path I travel's like the dragon shadow Invisible to CIA camera angles They got a file on every rap group They k**ed the last man who had proof They're after me for information that I have too [Hook x2] I'm paranoid, tell me what the f** they asked you You f** around with me and I might have to blast you The CIA's trying to k** me, we bad news Get the f** up out my way when I pa** through [Sabac Red] Symbolism, socialism, live life lead, learn Struggle war whole drug fiends, the white house burn Sex, pain, fear, freedom love, young guns be shootin' Genocide, revolution, lost souls prostituting Military confrontation, safe s**, and masturbation Peace to all the homeless people livin in the train station Project wars, building one vs four Lock the door, burn the disc now everybody hit the motherf**in floor They bust and I'm a glutton for this sh** I'm number six on they list next to Kiss and Marley's kids Cause I run wit Asians, Latinos and Black fists 5 percenters, Caucasians, thugs who live communist They broke in my house, planted bugs in all my lamps and my couch They after me (what) let me find out I'm not havin it, My rap attract the service like a magnet The ba*tards get nothing like private parties with no laminates If I'ma die, I'ma die bustin and strugglin I'm hustling for the people, f** them devils and corruptions Nuttin' for nuttin', ain't it something how they do? They ID me due to my tattoo [Hook x2] [Goretex] Projects for straight jackets, electroshock states A rock could fall out, traded for royalty rates Get ya drink on, we building bombs, spit in ya face Smart to change cars like cruise the block I do it for chase Nice spite work, the fancy knife work Hit to Chirst Non-Phixion striking prison Ice shirts I paid dues, nothing to loose, Steady bustin off weapons In 2's When I come home I be smellin sh** and furniture's moved Eat a slug, take some weight off, I live this for real I do this for the dead, rest in peace I'm holdin you near Makin up time, 12 years we on tour we blow your back off Support cats that jack the car seats and tear ya scalp off Soldiers of merits, inherited from way back Cyanide dipped bullets, so I should follow my stats We too futuristic, thugs to robots, experiments Four point restraint and my hyper cube on medicines Pain veterans, crippling souls It's gettin bigger now the information runnin the globe It's just my mechanics, either with a gat or zanax Why spread panic until the sabbath? [Hook x2]