God! Why did?
You’ve turned out a poor devil.
God! Why did you that?
You’ve turned out a poor devil.
Ill, Ill, Ill, Ill…
Ill Blood, Ill Blood says.
All the crowd in this city
Makes me blood thirsty.
I confuse my hair in a frenzy of hate.
To hell with it, die a bigger.
Hatred
Hatred
Wail with hatred
Making some noises.
Givin’ a cry of pain.
Tears flowing down the cheeks.
I won’t bury her old nightmare.
With malice aforethought
I clench my fist.
With malice aforethought
I clench my fist.
With malice aforethought
I clench my fist.
With malice aforethought
I clench my fist.
Ill Blood
Ill Blood
Ill Blood
He needs to be destroy.