Dead Drummer Boyz - Billy Woods, thrill gates, Bond

Spit like scotch blenders, Glen

Lower spending, look at all the shots I sended, beef ender

Come home, niggas pretended, that’s ok

The Nile ain’t a river in Egypt, every move strategic

White check, checkmate, hit your gate

Drop the thirty-eight, pass the brake, now we straight

Like heartache, tough luck mate, young havoc where you at

Pull a sack out your hat, twist that uptown magician

Dime bag technician, fly rides with the booming system

See four in the ignition, suicide missions with Israeli

walk on water for the Christians, daily news late edition

Spitamatic sleeper cell come in like artillery shell

Raw as hell MCs, we won’t ask, don’t tell

You ain’t parallel with the bell, call me Dr. Phil

Old saw bones and craft ill poems, through the first stone

Burn the whole bone, Backwoodz Studioz nigga, roll your own

And back from a payphone, and don’t even talk that bullshit neither

Come back like Jesus on Easter with two heaters

Bloody Sunday, no more playing BK, check the replay

We harder than your PJs, turn the tables like a DJ

Have you like Albert: «hey, hey, hey!»

How you like them apples

Nasty as chitlins and scrapple

Let loose these ticket holders on the red carpet

Or the rose hotel, the gold blows smoke running

Give me that necklace stunning, ‘cause I wanna

Eat before I sleep and I need funding for a campaign

A saccharine stain, no shame, shackles for chains

Saw massacre came, ‘cause I felt like it and

That’s the stricture’s picture, from scripture

Loose leafs, cool teeth, bedtime story mixture

Broke a light fixture, drank an elixer

Have hit standing in line saying thank you mister

Minister sinister, Sisyphus push rock as punishment

Take pharmaceuticals, reduce fingernails to cuticles

I let loose an army to reenact a musical

We can all march and proclaim murder to be beautiful

and Jacob’s Ladder to reach the fruit, so I’m telling you

I’m selling you 999 ways to the country

Spines snapping days at the ministry of plenty

Prayer light glare off the refraction of your camera

You make me snore like Al Gore but you can’t handle her

Meters break back inside their cages, ‘cause I sold funk in

Four different stages, the pages flipped, the just tip

Then I lost focus, collapse on your bread and butter like locust

You can have you mister opus, I grab the ropes and

Build the platform out of oak, there’s no straggling

Brights haggling, carpet bagging on this road to

A pharaoh’s phalanx couldn’t give enough thanks to please Nero

We viral spread infections instead of blankets

Protection as the kid gets, out blood boiling

Spoiling soylent green, take a seat and you’ll see what I mean