Don’t Touch That Dial

(Verse 1: Ill Bill)
My pimp hand is too strong
My trigger finger never do wrong
Ill and Unique with a new song
Ill Bill, reign supreme, I let the gun spray for cream
Uncle Howie motherfucker, we're your favourite team
A day in the life of the trife in high definition
Sell white to whites, side of a white Expedition
Homegrown, Brooklyn, Canarsie to Flatbush
Listen to the click-clack when the gat cooks
Listen to the ch-ch-ching when the crack cooks
Street business entrepreneurs, we in this
We witness, we up in this shit like we fuckin' this chick
Got my whole shit stuck in this bitch
I be kicking up dust like the bloods and the crips
I make this underground player feel ruptured and twist
Screw your drink, leave your fucking head busted and twisted
Rub you out like you never fucking existed

(Verse 2: Q-Unique)
I'm the bad guy in the black-fitted
Your hat splintered on impact
Flat on your back after the gat spitted
I'm grimy and rugged like Bushwick Brooklyn blocks
The result of when drug dealers are put with crooked cops
Say hello to the angel-maker
My hate will give you a halo or place you where the flames will take you
I party like Bill in the back of the tour bus
Bottle of pills, a pound of weed and the touch of a whore's lust
My mind is wired for chaos and utter destruction
Running production for narcotic fucks under consumption
You running from something, running and jumping
Under the gun, dummy becoming just a fucking obstruction
I do wrong and God tried to pay me back quick
Ain't try to snatch my ice, you just gave me that shit
I got a shitload of drugs stashed in this spare tire
I'm laughing at cops caught in the internal affairs wire