Hell Razah
Hell Razah - Streets To The Studio songtekst
Je score:
[Intro: Hell Razah (Killah Priest) {Timbo King}] Yo come here Priest! (Yo Razah I know you're crazy) What's good? {Maccabeez} Maccabeez International (Yo where ya bullets be?) Saudi Records {Yeah word up Razah, Killah Priest} (You know!) (Yo this one is gonna be the craziest joint in all the clubs around the way) M's up (in the United States of America, son) Yeah... y'all get in ya Mac mode, ya heard? (Y'all gon' get sick when you hear this... Let's go in on 'em son!) [Timbo King:] In the studio... All these actors now got new reality shows Why from the streets where reality shows... the last Great Dane Armageddon power, drink Amaretto Sour Louie Vatton, camouflage and Eddie Bauers Ezekial's will, riding down evil's hill Deceivers will, get ya whole peoples killed The promise of peace, yeah is nothing but a disguise I got a piece of pussy right here in front of my eyes High as a Priest, smoking on his Isaac Hayes Born in the seventies, Franky Beverly Mays Nigga who? Jigga boo, we The Maccabeez Last supper up at Applebys, so break bread with us Women of all kinds go to bed with us Runaway slaves escaped and then they fled with us Repent now or forever burn in flames I ain't even gotta tell you my name... mother father [Chorus x2: Hell Razah] From the streets to the studio, back where the party's at More haze, more Cognac Where my ladies is at with them diamonds and Cadillacs Coats, bags and a hat to match [Hell Razah:] In the streets... Record labels is ya slave owners I ain't Lil' Flip, shorty, but it's 'Game Over' All these killas in soaps could use a makeover I've been ready to ride before my baby stroller So what you hopping out, G5's or Range Rovers? I be a 'dro roller, white widow chain smoker Red Coronas, I sip and throw the drink on ya Or I could spit out a blade and put a shank on ya See I ain't mad at ya, I'm a get the last laughter (Haha) Too many wack rappers underneath that mascara When you meet 'em they broke and they be mad braggers Talking like they got swagger and they give their A&R jobs to these black crackers We was crack baggers, y'all niggaz backpackers Throwing stones at us barking up the wrong ladders This for y'all chrome grabbers dick-grabbing backstabbers [Chorus x2] [Killah Priest:] They call me Priest, La Shiek, had my freaks G.D. apparel, six in my barrell, sits like a Pharaoh Of Egypt, weed lit, mad ho's like I'm Freak Niq Chicks just come in with their bathrobes Cowgirl boots, hats and a lasso She's riding my lap while my finger's in her asshole Her onion is fat but it's all about that cash though Cool can't knock her, she said she got her boots from Dockers And should could move for dollars But I'm hard as a wood bat, I don't need a good rap All I need is a hoodrat, this is where you put that In yo' mouth, on yo' blouse, on yo' floor in yo' house On yo' couch, when I'm done grab me guns then I'm out My sixteen bars is automatic ink My clip release hit y'alls right where you think Got a scope in my pen, Maccabeez hold me down [Chorus x2]