"ILL" lyrics
(feat. Swifty McVay)
We do have meat
Meat: it comes in several different flavors
Mr. Mann enjoys the meat
Enjoys removing your skin from your body [*laughs*]
Please, come in, have a seat
Ah, made to perfection
[Swifty McVay:]
Without a conscience, I spit llamas like I'm playing Contra
My psychiatrist gettin' nauseous
The opposite of a honest counselor
Gangsta rappers and trappers get turned to pentacostals
Holy Bibles, I'm cockin' the nina
I had these motherfuckers leanin' like the Tower of Pisa
You a diva, and I'ma leave your guts wide open
Yeah, I peeped ya, you really a sheep in a wolf's clothing
And you don't know the art of war (The art of war)-
You're faker than mannequins at department stores (Department stores)-
I'm sicker than senior citizens in a psych wards
I'm shittin' on rappers without a diaper, smearin' it on a chalkboard
I'm a rap lord poppin' imposters
When I walk in your spot, niggas feel awkward
Suicide's the only way you gonna stop this brotha
I'll pop myself in the brain while I'm shootin' my album cover
McVay
Mmm, Mr., Mr. Brotha Lynch Hung
You think darkness is your ally?
While you merely adopted the dark, I was born it. Don't live by it
Why, I didn't see light until I was already a man and by then, it was nothing to me but grinding
[Brotha Lynch Hung:]
I'll make some gumbo out of your insides
And then slide over to your family's, then cry (You okay?)
Actin' like I give a fuck, love is a thin line
Niggas wanna battle me? Nigga, get in line
I eat meat like a tiger at dinn' time
Deion Prime, nigga, take a seat and watch him rhyme
So many styles like a boa constrictor
I could hold ya and rip your mainframe then watch your skin fry
Blood already been dry, I have a twin side
It find out where you put your babies at and run inside
I spit acid, I blasted fastest
First nigga to do his album cover in a casket
Shootin' holes in your Chevy Impala
Have you callin' your mama, tell her you gettin' all of the drama
First to ever do it — Obama
Creepin' through your hallway with a butcher knife — dunna, dunna
(Who are you?) It doesn't matter who we are
What matters is our plan
No one cared who I was until I put on the mask
(If I take it off, will you die?) It'd be extremely painful
(Ah, you're a big guy) For you
(Was getting caught part of the plan?) Of course
Meat: it comes in several different flavors
Mr. Mann enjoys the meat
Enjoys removing your skin from your body [*laughs*]
Please, come in, have a seat
Ah, made to perfection
[Swifty McVay:]
Without a conscience, I spit llamas like I'm playing Contra
My psychiatrist gettin' nauseous
The opposite of a honest counselor
Gangsta rappers and trappers get turned to pentacostals
Holy Bibles, I'm cockin' the nina
I had these motherfuckers leanin' like the Tower of Pisa
You a diva, and I'ma leave your guts wide open
Yeah, I peeped ya, you really a sheep in a wolf's clothing
And you don't know the art of war (The art of war)-
You're faker than mannequins at department stores (Department stores)-
I'm sicker than senior citizens in a psych wards
I'm shittin' on rappers without a diaper, smearin' it on a chalkboard
I'm a rap lord poppin' imposters
When I walk in your spot, niggas feel awkward
Suicide's the only way you gonna stop this brotha
I'll pop myself in the brain while I'm shootin' my album cover
McVay
Mmm, Mr., Mr. Brotha Lynch Hung
You think darkness is your ally?
While you merely adopted the dark, I was born it. Don't live by it
Why, I didn't see light until I was already a man and by then, it was nothing to me but grinding
[Brotha Lynch Hung:]
I'll make some gumbo out of your insides
And then slide over to your family's, then cry (You okay?)
Actin' like I give a fuck, love is a thin line
Niggas wanna battle me? Nigga, get in line
I eat meat like a tiger at dinn' time
Deion Prime, nigga, take a seat and watch him rhyme
So many styles like a boa constrictor
I could hold ya and rip your mainframe then watch your skin fry
Blood already been dry, I have a twin side
It find out where you put your babies at and run inside
I spit acid, I blasted fastest
First nigga to do his album cover in a casket
Shootin' holes in your Chevy Impala
Have you callin' your mama, tell her you gettin' all of the drama
First to ever do it — Obama
Creepin' through your hallway with a butcher knife — dunna, dunna
(Who are you?) It doesn't matter who we are
What matters is our plan
No one cared who I was until I put on the mask
(If I take it off, will you die?) It'd be extremely painful
(Ah, you're a big guy) For you
(Was getting caught part of the plan?) Of course
