Billy

The RZA

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    [Intro: RZA]
    Eh-yo, man, fuckin'..
    Mothafuckin' Billy, man
    Yeah, man
    That mothafucka, man, just called me and shit
    From fuckin', a, some county jail, man
    Down South or some shit
    He's mothafuckin' crazy
    I thought that nigga was comin' here next week too and shit
    But I guess he went down South with them fuckin' white boys
    You know he love headin' with them white boys and shit

    [RZA]
    Yo, yo, yo, Billy
    He sniffed dope and swallow acid, took cokes of cold classics
    Smoked hashes, tote plastic glocks and low jackets
    Cross country, cousin Billy with forty monkeys
    Twenty honkeys, Harley Davidson bike junkies
    In a convoy escapin' from Rosco Pico
    And those four redneck cops who had Woppy in a sleephold
    The SWAT team, U.S. army shock team
    The snipers who shot King, infrared dot beams
    Aimed at windshields, gas tanks and wheels
    From the bank they yanked the mil, hot lead and stainless steel
    Shot through the helments, cracked heads like halibut jaw
    Ripped through the wolves and blew the hood off the car
    A.T.F., F.B.I., D.E.A., chopper in the sky
    Eye witness news on standby
    Built to tell, it was Mit from the metly metly
    Teeth dipped in P.C.P., hit to the head like a D.D.T.
    Hard on the gut like liq' B.L.T.
    C-cipher punks with the A.P.B.
    Only destroys who was drunk of the J.N.B.
    Ran up in A&P, hit the safe at P&C
    Documentary on A&E, eight P.M. E.S.T.
    Five P.T., the ho tapin' on V.C.R.
    Three victims shot, one was saved by C.P.R.
    Fuckin' Billy be wildin'
    Like Robert L. Lee on Storwall Jackson
    He always out for action
    I was at an eighteen hole golf course relaxin'
    When I received the collect call, BOODOODOODOO
    Collect call from cousin Billy

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    [Phone Skit: RZA ("Billy")]
    (Eh-yo, Bobby, I'm in trouble)
    Yo, what's goin' on, cousin?
    What the fuck, man?
    (Listen, yo I need fifty thousand)
    Oh sh--, eh-yo, Kinetic
    Check it out, nigga said he need fifty fuckin' g's Son
    (Listen, yo, we got into a fight
    In the bar, shit was just crazy)
    Eh-yo, I heard you was fuckin' with the white boy Tommy again
    Takin' that acid, nigga
    (Yeah, oh yeah, we chillin' though
    I just need you to come get me, for real)
    No problem, son
    Yo, I'll send my nigga Kinetic down to get you and shit (Aight)
    Aight, there it is

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