Getcha Shit Together - Ill Bill, Q Unique

ILL Bill: You put that compressor shit on?

Q-Unique: No doubt, son

I seen my worst nightmares come true

Seen horrifying scenarios out my mind become realities truth

Have faith in nothing at all worship the Gods of Death

Seek bloodshed and murder until my dying breath

So let’s inhale the Toxic Avenger

Squeeze the nickel play the trigger with the shot that’ll end ya

Call for a State of Emergency, gamma rays burning at third degree

Little children running off to play in the murder scene

My words will be like murder movies slashing the She-Devil

Freddie Krueger vs Jason, trash and the speed metal

Thrashers with afros leather jackets and denim vests

Magnums and Tec’s, Black Sabbath patches and meth

A package of death as clear as blue crystal

I’m a savage distress and attack with two pistols

I’m an American Sniper that’s going American Psycho

Kept in an American cage like a freak in a sideshow

Mind gone like a Satanist plotting a child’s sacrifice

Meet the grown-up version of child Anti-Christ

Listen here dear we triple-six like a stripper with her nipples pierced

Pistoleers (?) pistols whistle crystal clear

But I’m distorted in sound recorded before you was found

Dismembered and slaughtered, tortured and tossed from the ground

The homies are odd and twisted Loki the God of Mischief

Learn the murder squad above the hood bombed the misfits