A Bullet Never Lies

[Hook 2x] A bullet never lies, it always tells the truth My words are gunshots that influence the youth Assassinate presidents like John Wilkes Booth Put the message in the barrel of your gun then *bang* [Verse 1: Ill Bill] Fuck the Source, fuck XXL, fuck any media machine Or magazine that front on my team Word to my comrades in the struggle Peace to HHC for putting me and Necro on their cover Your favourite rappers are Non Phixion fans Your wifey is an Ill Bill groupie with my dick in her hand United and dead-set, these young hoes wanna fuck me Excited like rednecks at gun shows in Kentucky I rock soccer stadiums in Bogota Saw ten thousand Colombians screaming, "Non Phixion, god." Don't be confused, this ain't that bullshit you listen to We that shit that your bitch fingers her pussy to Pound that Moog organ, chemical warfare, songs for hardcore goons The rest of y'all scared It's that radioactive green chronic in the blunt music Brooklyn homie, run up and pop you with a gun music Break it down for the blind, the brainwashed Religions, politicians and thugs pray to the same god Bloods and Crips, Democrats, Republicans Red and blue states to represent the sets they're running with Other gangs play the game too A blood named George Bush and his team smoked the entire Hussein crew Classic example of former friends turned to rivals Words of the bible inspire murder, turn to survival Die for your set, bang for Muhammad and Jesus A shitty public school system and a car that's decent I'm an American, I need a blowjob and a pizza So I'll overthrow you for oil, Mastercards and Visas [Hook 2x] [Verse 2: Vinnie Paz] This is a mother fuckin' siege and slaughter, another story of war A holy vision of the purity and glory before I warned you before about Leviathan and biochips And about the second coming of the Messiah shit About the motherfuckin' mark of the beast About the CIA distributing the crack in the streets A savage with beef, leave your body wrapped in a sheet He from Brooklyn, I'm from Philly, we was trapped in the streets My rap is complete, with everything from clappers and heat Pay us homage as you're praying at your enemy's feet That's why none of y'all can feel the god's real pain And none of y'all will never know God's real name Me and Bill is like the lightning and thunder Like in 1985, Iron Mike and his hunger A triflin' brother, give me the weed and the 'caine So I can chop it up in pieces and distribute the pain I know that that's some ignorant shit to be saying But if I was you and you was me then you would spit it the same You viciously maimed, bleeding in a visceral flame Till your spirit enter in a metaphysical plane