[Movie Sample]: Hey can I play ya boys a tune? Go on old man, beat it Come on, play one free... [gun shots] You son of a bitch Get him out of here, get him out of here! Let go of me You white nigga [another gun shot]
[Newscast]: ...they make you unpopular at sleepovers but... ...researchers at a clinic in Franklin, Germany found...
[Hell Razah]: Straight ghetto nigga, 718 to the 303 bitches
It's all about drug shipments, welfare recepients wait for Clinton Meanwhile we got no food in the kitchen Grandmother's turn Christian Try to warn you but you ain't listen Now it's phone calls from prison Daddy little girl is missin', 13 when she started kissin' She came in late, pops was flippin' Mama's boy, sold his cracks to be employed A lonely sin, we caught in this trap, to be destroyed Lookin' out a cab window, the same babies in the carriage Now sell endo, carry ya info, ya sore losers They can't win so they spray rumors Corrupt cops either lock or shoot us We love the hood where the ghetto respect, Nat Turner The burner be my mind first amendment Said it cuz I meant it, don't care about those who get offended I rock like Jimi Hendrix, me and my kin drip Street corner experts, in jeans and a sweatshirt Teammates kick dirt for cream and the network We back and get stab for that cash money bag You ain't a thug cuz a chain, gun and doo rag New car, new lab, powerful weed just two drags Puffin' on the regular, be careful who you follow yo Someone to push a Bentley, but they ain't ready though Someone to be an MC, and on the radio Some sell +Yae Yo+, it's tricks in they ghett-i-o Bitch where my cash go, you just like the last ho Guiliani fuckin up the crack flow, we let gats blow Switch the colors on the capsules, turn projects to castles You ever heard of the Black Jews, you see us on the 6 o'clock news
[Chorus x2: Hell Razah] It's all real in the hood I'm in [x3] Niggas live here, niggas die here
[Hell Razah] I was raised inside hell, last heard, +Supreme Clientele+ Find me in the jungle where the lions dwell Bust my gun til my palm got a iron smell You'se a dick head to think that I ain't sell The streets is death row, you Al Gore die in jail I got a flow like Myriam's Well My dean mayor blood sells, relate to the Tribe of Israel From a twelve inch I can ring bells No gimmicks, take a rap superstar behind limits Make you talk about the new God who sound different Niggas hate it when Sharon spit I put the aim on the target, walk up, make sure I hit it All I need is 4 minutes, to fuck bitches And to scream on critics, ya can't fuck wit it I leave ya writers blocked up, don't stuck wit it So sick of goin' in, it's all business Niggas like to buy shit before Christmas 2002 I'm sellin 4 disses I give life to the death wisses, breath of life to the death kisses I'm one shot, no misses