La Coka Nostra - Murder World (Produced By C - Lance) | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• La Coka Nostra
• Murder World (Produced By C - Lance)

[Slaine]

I’m having homicidal urges, visions of bloody money
Ain’t nothing funny, a serpent sliding under the surface
I purchase diamonds and guns
Splurging on blackjack, cocaine, gold chains, and bitches is worthless
The essence of my habits is twisted and prolific
It’s been predicted that I would die by my own biscuit
Amongst the wicked who take gambles for phone digits
It ain’t a life worth living if you don’t risk it
A moment till my atonement
Taking ownership for all the domes I split
Keep a sharpness believing everything impossible
Took the highway and caught beef with lots of you
So keep your black shades on when the villain shine
You kids been talking about a long time about killing mine
I’m too cagey, yous are half of my age
I still got the fucking hunger I had back in the days

[Hook: Ill Bill]

Murder World, welcome to your death after your afterlife
I murder you again, laugh with the burner to your head
Support your local murder music, shoot that piece of shit
With the burner to it and the Cadillac swerving to it

[Ill Bill]

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic
Rituals of madness, follow the leader, copy this, watch me flip
Back to beef and rocking Tims and rocking more lo than Ralphies Kids
Catch a machete up your ass like Gaddafi did
Better yet catch that HIV like Liberace did, kid
The ancestor of every reaction that's thought
In every line is like a landslide, an avalanche of course
Blizzard of Oz, children of war, cities are gone
Missiles are launched, systems evolved, pistols are sparked
Out the mouth I speak murder shit
Like Jesus Malverde did, I put you to sleep permanent
Sleep with the trout, my homies fillet piranhas
You plan to spray llamas but you still gay like Dahmer
I’m Coka for life, trench-coats and assault rifles
Motorcycles, snipers leave you with a shit bag buying diapers

[Hook: Ill Bill]

Murder World, welcome to your death after your afterlife
I murder you again, laugh with the burner to your head
Support your local murder music, shoot that piece of shit
With the burner to it and the Cadillac swerving to it