[Intro: Hell Razah]
It's about to rain 'Fire N Brimstone'

[Hot Flames:]
Staring in my reflection, looking at my own eyes
Satan got re-elected, how the fuck we so blind?
Still we rise, Michelangelo's lines
Play in my mind like one of my rhymes
They say the falling of The Towers was a sign
That the world's gonna end
And Nostradamus predicted, even wrote it in pen
Do you believe it ain't a question of that?
Do you believe in a God? That's the question to ask
Western is back, Jesus resurrection is fact
And I pray that I'm not alive on the day he come back
And I pray for every soldier that fought in Iraq
And every mother that was told her child's not coming back
'Cause I speak the words of a prophet follow my lead
Away from the nuclear rockets, and in Malcolm's dreams
Counting cream the American dream
But America's got a scheme that's way worse than it seems
It's sad when your child thirsting for cream
And he thinking his moms purse just a purchase on weed
Reasons for money is the purpose of creed
'The Art of War', [? ] told me to read
I read it, I see they using the same method on me
The road other men took was a lesson for me
Just remember my words when I'm resting in piece

[Chorus:]
'Fire N Brimstone'

[Hell Razah:]
When the Devil cross our path
Are we going to lift him off his ass?
Razah's forfeit fuck like it's Moses staff
Cash it down on the floor, that's a poisonous ass
Turn the studio session into a scientist lab
Mix the scriptures with streets then I add it with math
That's just half of this chemistry I wrote on the pad
Came to learn about the rest when I opened the class
And show students how the revolution was in the past
I'm the young Shaft in the ghetto, they're not on my level
Like the great Bob Marley, my music is rebel
Only heavy metal I know is Guns N' Roses
And I ain't talking about record covers and posters
I'm talking 'bout funeral, flowers and holsters
Y'all be too broke to rob, our job is stock brokers
To shit where you eat and you sleep is not kosher
I seen niggas leave and come back as dead soldiers
Covered in America's flag, there's eight heads in the duffel bag
You touch any one of my staff
Hold you hostage like Arabs back in Baghdad
I don't come from a rocket but I [? ]