The Chosen Few

[Verse 1: ILL BILL]
I see visions from beyond the grave
Tyrants on thrones made of arms and legs
I’m in a Benz powered by the hearts of men
We the chosen few, we swim among the sharks again
We the murderers in your crib with a shotgun to your head
Ski-mask on, Mexican wrestler steez, lucha libre
Goons and creeps squeeze off UZI's and AK’s
We maintain, we play the game
Raising the stakes, raised by a nation of snakes
Fascinated with hate
Sub harmonic, politicking, guns, and chronic
Pussy and tonic, vodkanomics
Orgies with Playboy models accomplished
Mosh pits in front of ten thousand kids
Wе’re the most brolic, we Soulsonic, ultra-magnеtic
You get your fucking head split
Like Necro said, I need drugs, faggot, we negative
We’re number one with hollow tip bullets and bangers
Leave you looking like Budd Dwyer in front of the cameras

[Verse 2: Necro]
In the previous chapters of my life I was mischievous
Running with gun clappers, packin' knifes and meat cleavers
Doing devious shit you’d see on CBS News at night
Guess what? I’m still on that Brooklyn BS
I’m into the exciting aspects of blasting TECs
And fighting for respect, fuck getting my ass kicked
I’m slashing your neck before entering a casket
I’m cashing a check for a million, I’m a demented bastard
The inventor of Death Rap shit
With the incentive to blend Hip Hop and metal riffs
Connecting with legends, mergers, and acquisitions
That make killings like murders and apparitions
Disaster funk my gats get crunk
We’re killing rats, I’ll leave you like Billy Batts in the trunk
We’re on the other end of the spectrum
I recommend you rock this shit
Till your nose bleeds from deviated septum

[Verse 3: Mr. Hyde]
Brain-splattered butchery, bloodbath and bile
We stomping through your hood with guns blasting wild
SMG’s, nobody fucking with me
The slug-chucker release, you’d better duck near a tree
Hold heat like summer time, bullets from my gun’ll fly
Torture you in intervals, it takes a corpse to mummify
Shove my blade in your waste, I’m as dangerous as AIDS
It’s amazing how my 12 gauge splits open your face
Get yourself a better vest, got Berettas and TECs
That’ll have both of your arms crossed like the letter X
Kid your jewelry’s lusted so you’re brutally busted
Fucking shooting a musket 'cause it’s cool to be dusted
Beautifully rusted box cutters’ll catch ya
All over your chest just to spill out your ketchup
Your heart’s missing blood 'cause I sipped it with straws
Take a clip out my Taurus then I’m licking it off
Your whole view might distort when you spew pints and quarts
If you don’t find the gauze, it’s true life is short
Known to blaze you with slugs and fucking break a few jugs
There ain’t no telling what my cranium is capable of
I’ll probably pull and bust 8, through double bullets up-state
Come back and have your fucking wifey full of duct tape
Train fucked and raped, pussy dripping like papaya juice
Cut up her face, all homicide is justifiable!