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Ill-M-I, Ill-M-I, Ill-M-I, Ill-M-I and you
Illuminati comin' through
Ill-M-I, Ill-M-I, Ill-M-I, Ill-M-I and you
Illuminati comin' through
Flow like the Cassius, swing like the Clay
One day, I'm'a make the whole world pay
With k.o.'s and okay we bash clots-n-dot-dash
You got that right, I'm'a rock the Morse code tonight
Transmit 'n throwin' fits 'n paparazzi like zits
Get flipped out and squeezed fresh like juicy sun kissed
And if I miss with my missles you're still gonna sizzle
'Cause I frizzle fry radiation style worldwide
You got your pipeline clogged man get that puppy routed
You got the style down and since you don't know about it
Who's the loser (I am) because we come in numb love
And choicer and did I mention looser (no you didn't)
Then I do sir, producer, hit me with the juice
Much obliged got the head of a moose
So mount me on the wall of your livin' room
Sure to bring the boom
Speakin' like a zoom deep into your tomb
And if you feel the vibe glide true it's on you
And if you need to drive right through it's on you
And if your screamin' "moi non plus" it's like
What you tryin' to do when you can't fade the true one
Eruption type volcanics I got the vocal spurtmatic
Suction cup hands upside the slammin' daily planet
I do windows (on school days) spill Jim Jones (type cool-aid)
All these primrose (style bouquets) I clip those (for doomsday)
Got succulent flavor, the uprisen Savior
Manifestin' through these mics, blastin' out your graveyard
Savor every bite that TOBYMAC gave ya
Turn and tell your neighbor this ball-o-dirt is goin' into labor
Illuminati comin' through
Ill-M-I, Ill-M-I, Ill-M-I, Ill-M-I and you
Illuminati comin' through
Flow like the Cassius, swing like the Clay
One day, I'm'a make the whole world pay
With k.o.'s and okay we bash clots-n-dot-dash
You got that right, I'm'a rock the Morse code tonight
Transmit 'n throwin' fits 'n paparazzi like zits
Get flipped out and squeezed fresh like juicy sun kissed
And if I miss with my missles you're still gonna sizzle
'Cause I frizzle fry radiation style worldwide
You got your pipeline clogged man get that puppy routed
You got the style down and since you don't know about it
Who's the loser (I am) because we come in numb love
And choicer and did I mention looser (no you didn't)
Then I do sir, producer, hit me with the juice
Much obliged got the head of a moose
So mount me on the wall of your livin' room
Sure to bring the boom
Speakin' like a zoom deep into your tomb
And if you feel the vibe glide true it's on you
And if you need to drive right through it's on you
And if your screamin' "moi non plus" it's like
What you tryin' to do when you can't fade the true one
Eruption type volcanics I got the vocal spurtmatic
Suction cup hands upside the slammin' daily planet
I do windows (on school days) spill Jim Jones (type cool-aid)
All these primrose (style bouquets) I clip those (for doomsday)
Got succulent flavor, the uprisen Savior
Manifestin' through these mics, blastin' out your graveyard
Savor every bite that TOBYMAC gave ya
Turn and tell your neighbor this ball-o-dirt is goin' into labor
Lyrics submitted by GodisGreat311
"Ill-M-I" as written by Christopher E. Stevens, Glenn Galaxy, Toby Mckeehan
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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What is the meaning behind the song Ill-M-I?
Its basically hip-hop on the art tip. The lyrics of the song are almost whimsical, like word pictures all throughout. The real thought behind the song is its sort of poking at the Pharisees, poking at those who "have it all together." Of course, its basically ILL M I, and you, Illuminati shining through you. Illuminati, people are confused by what that means, but one of the dictionary definitions is 'a person or persons claiming superior spiritual enlightenment.' So, that to me is a Pharisee anyone who claims to be an all-knowing spiritual person. So, it's sort of saying, "Ill am I. I'm all ill down here, and you, Illuminati, shining through."
papparazzi everywhere
wars (And if I miss with my missles you're still gonna sizzle)
and anger (One day, I'm'a make the whole world pay)
and evolution (Turn and tell your neighbor this ball-o-dirt is goin' into labor)
And how with God we can fix it
(spill Jim Jones (type kool-aid))