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(Ill Bill)I?m the problem and the solutionThe revolution won?t be televised, it?s too gruesomeToo gangster, too graphic for you born-again faggotsMy words inspire people like the ten commandmentsI floss with diamond teeth, SCUBA dive on a private beachBilly Idol smoke chronic with CheechI cut your tongue out for talking against meMy enemies? grandchildren will remember me for centuriesThe fine line between insanity and geniusMurder you, I give your reality a remixHumanity?s beneath us, we super humansSuper tyrants, super violent, listen to the way my nine clickRight before I pop your collarThe most hated from New York like I shot your mammaCompare me to Amazon.com for dollarsCanarsie Osama, riding with a ? of martyrs, fucker(Everlast)Hardcore chemical, gangster materialTri-city machine bang in your stereoPut em up, shut em downKeep it raw, riding with the gutter soundHardcore chemical, gangster materialTri-city machine bang in your stereoLetras de cancionesPut em up, shut em downKeep it raw, riding with the gutter sound(Everlast)The thicker the plot, the quicker the shot, the liquor and potGot me higher than the Denver junkie, shocking the monkeyFeeding his habit, set it up, cook it up, tie it off and stab itShoot it up, feel the rush then throw up your gutsNod out for a while cause the Style is nuts, like Almond Roca ? fuckin CokaThose other cats fake it with that baking soda(Danny Boy)This is it, this is it, yeah I'm back on the shit again(Slaine: Danny Boy, Danny Boy, you ever gonna spit again?)C'mon homie you know me, yeah I birthed your styleThe money-back guarantee, I make it worth your whileStill the Cadillac King, I don't fuck with foreign carsAmerican, I need a blowjob and a porn starNobody move, no not one punkI fuck around and pull out my shotgun pumpHardcore chemical, gangster materialTri-city machine bang in your stereoPut em up, shut em downKeep it raw, riding with the gutter soundHardcore chemical, gangster materialTri-city machine bang in your stereoPut em up, shut em downKeep it raw, riding with the gutter sound(Slaine)Yeah dope motherfuckers I came back to spitMove with the hunger fueled by a lack of chipsWhen I lose my cool and shoot it's accurateGive me some room, I make yous move back a bitI came from a town where the hope can drownBought a teaspoon ? from the dope and foundWith their necks tied up and the rope aroundEighties cars overheated broken downCar-thieving heathen, living where no odds or evenGambling fist fighters watching the kid bobbing and weavingEverybody scheming, we all deceivingI wrote my words on the walls of mausoleumsNow I stand in a position of strengthSo I speak for those who can't, I spit what I thinkI'm from the city where motherfuckers were sticking the pigsI rep the Irish street cats and the micks in the clink, c'monHardcore chemical, gangster materialTri-city machine bang in your stereoPut em up, shut em downKeep it raw, riding with the gutter soundHardcore chemical, gangster materialTri-city machine bang in your stereoPut em up, shut em downKeep it raw, riding with the gutter sound From Letras Mania