Ill Bill - Murder '93 lyrics

MURDER, MURDER, MURDER KILL, KILL, KILL Murder, murder hehehehe, murder MURDER, MURDER, MURDER KILL, KILL, KILL "At first I hara** them, then I murder them" (X 2) Last night a b**h bust my crib and found a carca** Tried to press charges But I walked free regardless Like, Tony Montana My trigger finger got stamina You mess around and I'll BLAM BLAM in ya Ramming your body parts down the cindering slots I'm chopping your off then drop your pieces off a rooftop Re-animator Creator of the murder data The Terminator I murder, then I see you later Living dead, stomping the streets of Brooklyn like a zombie I come to eat your brain like a piece of salami Contaminate you like a biohazard Because I'm a sick ba*tard 2000 maniacs call me master And they obey everything I say, no question Suicide, plus more confession maintain aggression Mr. Ill Bill brings your body to the blood feast I'm the piece of corps condemned great tooled priest Bodies, on top of bodies I instigate mutilation Under federal investigations Kathy Pears disappeared like all the children 2000 maniacs locked in my building [Chorus X 2] I get hyper with a butcher knife and a hash pipe But pack with parts all my brain cells apart Assorted body parts I'm starting to stab and chop up Cover the floor with plasma, then I mop up Unless I get dressed to k** when I spill You guts Ill Bill the butcher ghost doesn't do manorial Chop chop then pop, with the Glock Go get my clip, then flip and pop pop pop pop Goes my gat I'm flipping psychopathic spastic drastic Nuclear plastic putting people to caskets All of a sacrifice I'm gentle like Charles Manson Crematoria people sleeps in a glancing Ashes burnt, ?-----? Undead, humanoid end of the sent a laving Like leukaemia, fights chemo therapy The brain cancer, extravaganza Directs me, infects me Condemns me to the Brooklyn floors Like price my pounce are stripes two heads like spikes Make nice, nice since I got a nadge to grind I blind kids by poking out their eyes with my knifes So, die, die, die, drop dead, die You painted my face, popsicles to my brain Bronchitis, septic virus, verbal colitis Bottom strides Girls get on top of guys Beyond the graves, slash in a bloodbath Bubble, bubble toys bring trouble Zombies arrive, and you'll all be adopted Strapped with gats so - step - BACK [Chorus] I been twisting fresh hits and grotesque torsions I use a chainsaw, when I'm performing an abortion I stack up bodies so back up , before I make my hatchet hack up And use your lifeblood's to grease the track up I grab you then I stab you in the skull with a scalpel Make your brain madder flatter and some part of rather doubtful Blood everywhere and your hardly even breathing I kick you to the face and make the flat line even There's no tomorrow I'm the hardest stir of sorrow Beyond the gates and wait backwards like Bizarro Bizarre, strange, got maggots in my brains f*ggots roll down the hill and burn, burn in the FLAMES [Chorus X2]