Glenwood Projects

(Uncle Howie)
'Glenwood mother-****** Projects, that was the ****** place man. ******
crack smoking all night. Cookin it up, sellin C4, weapons, blowguns, every
mother-****** thing - what a ****** rush. We were cookin the *******t up, an
I smoked it up an the Jamaicans man, they came back, ****** torched the
place, with me mother-****** in it! I couldnt get out the ******
apar******ent, they locked me in, I had to go out the ****** window, it was
****** dynamite!'
(Ill Bill)
Ill Bill lost sanity - lost humanity
Lost in a maze of purple haze, cannabis sativa - spit ether - violently
Very vociferous – victorious - hotter than a crematorium - Ill kill all of you
Kill you – mother-******* you - Drop dead faggit its the dragon
.44 Magnum - splatter you in front of your family
My fire arms, never be tired - up in the air
Throw a bullet up in each eye – an one in ya ear
I speak ******, breathe *******, sniff *******
Tweaked levels when I peeped Courtney kill Cobain
We got the whole world scratching they heads
Life is like a high-jacked airliner, but we managed to win
Back to the crib, breakin up the cats in the brig
Havin a ******* - fla*******n the ******* - While you cra*******ng the whip
Laughin at hoes, taking fakerss to amateur flicks
While the Ill Bill albums kidnapping your kids
(Chorus – Ill Bill x2)
I put the D into Drugs an the G into Guns
I put the D into Dubs an the T into Thugs
I put the C into Caine an the P into Pain
The G into Game, Pop-Pop – three in ya brain
(Necro)
I get impatient like a long bid - get so vexed I hit the wrong kid
*******t gets awkward, like Im on a drug an I cant get off it
Blank out – rip a shank out
Treat you like Vietcong - hit you like the ******* in a bong
Your ******* like a G-string or thong
You think Im sick? ****** up? Oh am I?
You think you cant die?
Dont think your crazy cuz a years passed by
Beat you down with my ****** hands tied
Now change your attitude, before you get cracked from different latitudes
By kids that are mad at you – they expect gratitude
Ill strike a foe - even if you dont know me you better act like you know
Especially if youre soft – Ive earned my stripes like Schwarzkopf
The gun I bust off will tear through your clothes like a moth
Your sloppy, cuz you start beef, and cop please, but not me…
(Chorus – Ill Bill x2)
I put the D into Drugs an the G into Guns
I put the D into Dubs an the T into Thugs
I put the C into Caine an the P into Pain
The G into Game, Pop-Pop – three in ya brain
(Goretex)
I rock sickening raps like Woody Allen flares beach hats
A John Hinckley – run up on politicians with ski caps
Laser weapons – I bleed coke, happiness is like a warm gun
Run in ya crib slitting ya Gs throat
Cruise the block, whippin uzis an pop
Loosin the cops, whether new lots or zooming through Watts
The newest space suite, love rocking ******* like grapefruits
Phase two - Rasta-ice inverted 'Hey-Zeus' (Jesus)
Im up in fat burger – bag some codeine
So clean, pinstripe gat runners are Old Gs
serving the fiends crack, **** and *******
Glenwood projects - we living the American dream
Screaming 'hey pelican' – trains of coke on my *******
Handle bars like 'Vivica' – with nipples and crotch
We toured - drive-bys on the mongoose with glocks
This aint rhetorical, the story gets worse – you get shot
(Chorus – Ill Bill x2)
I put the D into Drugs an the G into Guns
I put the D into Dubs an the T into Thugs
I put the C into Caine an the P into Pain
The G into Game, Pop-Pop – three in ya brain