Non-Phixion: It's us

[Chorus] It's the N-O-N, P, H, I, X, I-O-N [x4] [Ill Bill] What does that spell? It spell Non Phixion my friend The Future Is Now, nuclear shower y'all powerball I devour all, buildings collapse, towers fall Killers with gats, millions of carnivores start the war I shoot rocket launchers riding on dinosaurs Flying saucers meet the Bible's author Reveal alien tribal culture Who the sign of DNA structure Genetic functions will me made into that of which was God's construction? Now bust the combustion Big Bang Gangbangers that spit slang Be the truth, not that King James version they teach in schools Jesus knew, he was thugged out too A bugged out dude, a loose cannon In my future we use Magnums, bombs and explosions I spit like Muhammed and Moses Ganja smokin, thoughts in constant motion, my mind is ferocious I spit for gangstas and baby decks that defy prognosis It's Ill Bill, my reality's my psychosis [Chorus x4] [Goretex] What does that spell? It spells Non Phixion my friend A brave new world, the slave for more gods to men Bars of phlegm so therapeutic it's part of the end The way I spit pain it's hard to pretend, hardly depends Sticking up delis for quick chips and starving again Our marketing plan's guarantee I'll be parking a Benz My words are like carcinogens, we be starting the trends I sharpen the edge with sixteen bars to defend The arm, leg, leg, arm, head God is HaShem Non Phixion extra-terrestrials, Martians with Tims Smart as the dead, we at war with the Narcs and the Feds Uncle Howie sparkin the stem with the positive grin Napalm shots, Israeli camo, ammo with the car bomb I don't exist, close the garage and leave the car on Amen, suicide watch and state pen Street trilogy, one love I'll see you again [Chorus x4] [Sabac Red] What does that spell? It spells Non Phixion my friend These predicaments got me thinking, spitting again Living a thousand lives, died a thousand deaths Been on house arrest Lost control, tortured soul depressed Watch how foul it gets Suicidal thoughts, wrists slit, it's overdose Wigs split, mixed with coke, fix the road a comatose Eyes bulging, mind swollen, my spirit left the physical Burning skin, return again, redeem the breath of miracles You're born suspects, we love porn sex The drug Ex make the thugs get wild and bust sets Like a gangsta, our music stimulates your brain Make you wanna bang something start to create change I'm hard to breathe, just before the gods and the thieves If we want peace then why is it so hard to achieve? I believe in us, when you faggots sleep on the gods Uncle Howie, Non Phixion bitch, we beating the odds [Chorus x4]