[Ill Bill] Yo Ill Bill the coke leader Coka season has begun La Coka Nostra A Brand You Can Trust in stores July 14th Check it [Verse 1] Ill Bill The Llama you came to drag me to Hell Demons attack where sanity dwell Humanity fell from the mouth of a [?] profanity hill That was fist-raised jaggedy nail Illuminati grail, seven seal nations battle Gods where devils kneel Rebels sprayed by a**a**ins with shells Crazy adolescents that k**, Mac 11's and pills Everything William Cooper was talking about then is happening now Malachi York was way ahead of his time, truth is wild How both of them have been discredited and edited Yet Nostradamus a fool [?] irrelevant There's a reason it's called programming propaganda loop Random truth, cannibal Xanadu, Channel 2 cameras who multiple panel view Jumping out of planes without a parachute Born with an attitude landing at ground zero latitude That dude got his head smashed in the door His b**h swore she ate Britney Spears' p**y in the bathroom at Pure Attention who*es always asking for more Sniff around on all fours acting like she wanna vacuum the floor A Suicide Girl into Charles Manson and p**n She like Nas so she dance to this song, listen (listen) [Slaine] Made you Oh made you look You a slave to a page in my rhyme book It's La Coka Nostra July 14th, the album in store Stores Ain't no stores left anyways [Verse 2] Slaine Yo my knuckles are sore from Punching motherf**ers in the jaw Ruin these jeans, slipping on a slippery floor They gave me four six figures and Syphilis sores Walking through the f**ing halls balls big as a horse Sniffing the raw, never made me different before Now I act like an a**hole with the criminal thought I think when I drink I think I drink too much These cops always wanna watch me and clink me up Am I being paranoid? Do I think too much? While these pussies pushing me and being pink too much I'm a rebel on the rhythm swinging, sting you up Be careful and fearful of all the things you trust Y'all mixed race cats coming to my show sh**-faced Come and get your face fixed, fix face mixtape All of y'all s**ing on my hog, how my dick taste? Get your teeth displaced if my f**ing fist breaks I'm a beat you down with the elbow or Shelltoe Forehead, f**ing forearm, who the hell knows? Broken cheeks, backbones, hip disc, crack phone You can't even walk in the kitchen when you're back home Imagine if you k**ed me just how pissed my villains be How many times your wife will be raped and where all your children be I'm a hundred percent, you're a one in a million, G And you can't f** with me or my DMS crew neither You're too p**y and too beaver Get the f** out of here you I'm done rapping you f**ing f*ggot motherf**ers Get the f** out of here