[lyrics by Harry Conklin] Scrambled signals on the radio Orders are given to attack Flames light the sky from over the hill No time for turning back
a kick, kick in the dick kick Gonna make ya sick kick, suffer you that Come the blood spills, get ya kick thrills On a will kill? Suffer you pain In
nothing can wish this away holy water can't cleanse your past drowning in blood, fighting for breath suffer to death every action breeds correction
no, no, no Sex and death and the american west Fuck us all, farewell to flesh I want you, I want to, I want to kill you Wanna kill your pretty face, kill
My Postion And Thrillen Bars You Think Im Writing With John Krishenpen I Need Rossi Never Mind The Pricing Know We Brought Cake To The Party, No Icing No Ice On Big Phantom No License
surrender) It's all too familiar, license to kill ya Seems to be to work every time (Still no remember) Some tryna look for a lease, down here Get killed
like the next man Holdin' me for nothin', runnin' my fuckin' license plates My plates come clean, you call the DEA The DEA says I'm a known drug dealer Straight born killer
dock like Yeahhh Macaroni greens and hamhocks, I am not on your planet like Dr. Spock, Rock To my own tune, Lil' Tune My stomach hurtin' My shit is dropping real soon Kill
I'm in the grocery store, can't even walk the aisles Ya girls see me, nah, I'm takin' pictures with a smile Sunlight reflectin' off my gold skin Last King killing
Uh yeah Jigga uhu Changing Faces How we do Yo All of my rhymes fall all of my days I trade All of my dimes and all of my bad ways I fade Killing late
So my head light smooth when I move the steering wheel I ain't clubbing from nothing, its top dollar to chill I pop bottles for real with pop artists that kill
't condone bitin' see them skull and crossbones Protecting what I'm writing Don't clash with the Titan who blast with a license To kill rap reciting
Next thing I saw was the guns to my head Now the lead will make me dead and yo this is what he said "My name is Sgt.Slacker with a license to kill I
that paper, I ain't tryna wife a slut up, I'm dying for this cake and I ain't tryna wipe a crumb up, They ride with the gun up, kill you and light the
times Papi Mason times 3 Uncle Toms need toms to stomach atomic bombs Or die from my Wizardry Rza, Gza, Method man I'm a killer b, killer! Be killed,
Devils working hard He probably clocking double shifts on all of his jobs Frightening, so f-cking frightening Enough to drive a man insane I need a license to kill
keep my paws clean I ain't fuckin with you at all Lames is your whole set Please don't recognize ya'll Independent acrobatic Make that loo sommersault Rememberin my license