ILL BILL
ILL BILL
ILL BILL
ILL BILL & Uncle Howie & Necro & Goretex
ILL BILL
ILL BILL
ILL BILL & Mr Hyde
ILL BILL & Necro
ILL BILL
ILL BILL & Q-Unique & Necro & Goretex
ILL BILL & Goretex & Sabac
ILL BILL
ILL BILL & Goretex & Uncle Howie
ILL BILL
ILL BILL
ILL BILL & Necro
The song is a tribute to the Glenwood Houses, the low income housing development (located in Brooklyn, New York) where Ill Bill and its brother Necro grew up.
[Intro: Uncle Howie]
Glenwood motherfucking Projects! That was the fucking place, man. Fucking crack smoking all night, cooking it up, selling C4, weapons, blowguns, every motherfucking thing. What a fucking rush! We were cooking the shit up, and I smoked it up, and the Jamaicans man, they came back, fucking torched the place with me motherfuckingin it! I couldn't get out the fucking apartment, they locked me in, I had to go out the fucking window, it was fucking dynamite!
[Verse 1: 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, I'll kill all of you
Kill your mother, fuck you, drop dead, faggot it's the dragon
.44 Magnum splatter you in front of your family
My firearms never be tired, up in the air
Throw a bullet up in each eye, and one in your ear
I speak heroin, breathe weed, sniff cocaine
Tweaked levels when I peeped Courtney kill Cobain
We got the whole world scratching their heads
Our life is like a hijacked airliner but we managed to win
Back to the crib, breaking up the cash and the brick
Having a bitch flashing the tits while you crashing the whip
Laughing at hoes taking facials in amateur flicks
While the ILL BILL album's kidnapping your kids
[Chorus: ILL BILL]
I put the D in the drugs and the G in the guns
I put the D in the dubs and the T in the thugs
I put the C in the 'caine and the P in the pain
The G in the game
Pop pop, three in your brain!
[Verse 2: Necro]
I get impatient like a long bid
Get so vexed I hit the wrong kid
Shit gets awkward like I'm on a drug and I can't get off it
Blank out, whip a shank out
Treat you like Viet Cong
Hit you like the weed in a bong
Your pussy like a G-string and thong
You think I'm sick? Fucked up? Oh am I?
You think you can't die?
Don't think you're crazy 'cause the year passed by
Beat you down with my fucking hands tied
Now change your attitude
Before you get cracked from different latitudes
By kids that are mad at you
They expect gratitude, I'll strike a foe
Even if you don't know me you better act like you know
Especially if you're soft
I've earned my stripes like Schwarzkopf
The gun I bust off will tear through your clothes like a moth
You're sloppy, cuz you start beef and then cop pleas
But not me!
[Chorus: ILL BILL]
I put the D in the drugs and the G in the guns
I put the D in the dubs and the T in the thugs
I put the C in the 'caine and the P in the pain
The G in the game
Pop pop, three in your brain!
[Verse 3: Goretex]
I rock sickening raps like Woody Allen flares beach hats
Or John Hinckley run up on politicians with ski caps
Laser weapons, I bleed coke
Happiness is like a warm gun
Run in your crib slitting your G's throat
Cruise the block whipping UZI's and pop
Losing the cops, whether New Lots or zooming through Watts
The newest space suit, love rocking titties like grapefruits
Phase two, Rasta-ice inverted Jesus
I'm up in Fatburger, Beck's and codeine
So clean, pinstriped gat runners are OG's
Serving the fiends crack, dope and weed
Glenwood Projects, we living the American dream
Screaming, “Hey pelican!" with trains of coke on my cock
Handle bars like Vivica, with nipples and crotch
We toured drive-bys on the Mongoose with Glocks
This ain't rhetorical, the story gets worse, funny
You get shot!
[Chorus: ILL BILL]
I put the D in the drugs and the G in the guns
I put the D in the dubs and the T in the thugs
I put the C in the 'caine and the P in the pain
The G in the game
Pop pop, three in your brain!