Hell Razah

Hell Razah - Free Love lyrics

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[Intro: Hell Razah]
Yeah, this goes out to Brooklyn, Queens
Harlem, Shaolin, to the BX, Strong Island
Dirty Jersey, all the way to the Midwest, Miami
We gon' go all the way to the west side on this one right here
California, San Francisco, London, Amsterdam
Tokyo, Hong Kong, Jamaica, Haiti, Puerto Rico
Dominican Republic, Columbia, Brazil, throw your flags up
Black Market, so y'all could see us
Killah Priest, we're here, Tragedy Khadafi
William Cooper, Hell Razah, Bo King, Brooklyn
Yo Brooklyn was going down?

[Timbo King:]
Yeah-yeah, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
My first name's Bo, my last name's King
I hit you in the face with a chicken wing
From a lie I should fuck you up right now
But your girl's my love and I'm wondering how
Know how to fuck, 'cause I just came to chill
I feel the beef, is charcoal ok with the grill?
Testing, you know yet we came with the vest
And the drugs, the bitches, the one's I'm caressing
Now what? You wanna pop off Jacob?
Girl I don't got the time for the lies and make-ups

[Killah Priest:]
Shootouts in block corners, cops swarming
Police riots, street's virus
Walk thru plain with .38, then put it right where you think
You blink, you could be gon', name your pain
Next thing I'm going after your expiration date
This one's for the women on Section-8
Sex is great, but I wanna educate you more
More than the cat that penetrated you more
That kind of dude gonna medicate you all
Quote it when I conversate, it's pure
Since '86 my baby inflicts, bamboo earrings
Bad jewels appearing
Coca Cola shirts, on the mic niggas know Priest goes bezerk

[Chorus: Priest]
Money makes the world go round
Black Market movement, revolution

[Hell Razah:]
Now we got a President that ship Cocaine
And can't get a chick if your whip ain't a Range
We still block party, rock games of Atari
Who went from windbreakers to rocking an Armani
When I first heard "La-li-da-di" from my man's bad copy
Trey bags of weed and red double G's
Four figurines, the era of the Kings
When Rakim came out with 'Microphone Fiend'
Poor crack fiends taught niggas how to sling
But it must have gotten too hot, burned off your wings
I'm all attitude, you need jewels to speed up
Even if you're scheming, you're thinking like a diva
Like a diva, it's deeper

[William Cooper:]
I was an emcee on the boom-box, my hip-hop lock it
Face covered with a stocking
Skating on a baseline, gun hand on my waistline
Back in '86 rope chain and white lines
And nowadays is what set you plain
The blood or grip, or what hoop you play
And you know I was a mack in 8th grade
Looking up to Cool J macking in school days

[Chorus: Priest]
So stop all the shooting, what were doing
Money makes the world go round
Black Market movement, revolution
Crack will make your girl go down
So stop all the shooting, what were doing
Money makes the world go round

[Outro: Hell Razah]
Money makes the world go round
Yeah, all the way down to Virginia
North Carolina, South Carolina
Connecticut, Renaissance Child
All our people out there in Germany
Uh-huh, Australia, all our people in Israel, Tel Aviv
All our people out there in Egypt
Niggas had on gazelles; we see y'all, long distance
Niggas used to rock on gentians and shit
All our people out there in Sudan
Black Market baby, Yemen, Brooklyn all day
All our people out there in Iraq

Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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