- Votes:
Hell Razah f/ Crooked I - Halos lyrics
[Verse 1-Hell Razah]
 Knock, knock, who is it? I'm back, stop the gimmicks
 I pop pop the biscuit and shut down your businesses
 They wanna white-wash scan-copy my image
 While I became a menace 'cause I found my limits
 Spit it, open up the Book of Life and see my name in it
 Same sentence, sure my wagers are death if I ain't live it
 Ask the Lord for forgiveness of sins that I committed
 Even Solomon predicted, you can't die with your riches
 Of course, no pillow talk when you lie with them bitches
 Each verse be worth money like Egyptian pictures
 It got worse since the Bush's took that torch from Hitler
 Pour out liquor for my dead comrades, I ain't forget ya, man
 A lot of sex, but I'm no Caligula
 I'm livin' Hip Hop, son, you just a visitor
 A lot of faces and the names are similar
 I build with the OG's down to superiors, yeah
 [Hook-Vocal samples]
 "Fight the system"
 "Got a precinct with the po-po"
 "Bust your pistol"
 "Seekin' five-O"
 "Fight the system"
 "Got a precinct with the po-po"
 "Bust your pistol"
 "Seekin' five-O"
 Yo, this how we do it, man
 Crooked I, where you at, baby?
 [Verse 2-Crooked I]
 I sit in the dark with my dead homies, obituary pictures
 They talk to me while I'm writin' these literary scriptures
 Sayin', "Crooked, don't let the Police Military get ya"
 I tell 'em, before they do I'll be in a cemetery wit ya
 Militant momma, she was down with the Panthers
 Picture me, a baby G in a dashiki and Pampers
 I was the face of the pamphlets man, the black future
 But nowadays, niggas gat shoot ya, fuck it, I clap rugers
 My nina singin' like Fat Luther
 Vandross, a damn boss bringin' that braat-braat to ya
 COB is a religion, listen I'm in it
 Everything I'm spittin' was written wit hidden symbolism in it
 Infinite wisdom hittin' the intricate sentences I'm spittin'
 Cryptic as hieroglyphics, thought they figured it, but they didn'tHell Razah f/ Crooked I - Halos - http://motolyrics.com/hell-razah-f-crooked-i/halos-lyrics.html
 West Coast Fayroll, killers on the payroll
 20's on my chariot, dodge a blue halo
 Hey yo, ya feel me out there? Whassup, Razah
 Momma raised a Hell Razah
 [Hook-Vocal samples]
 "Fight the system"
 "Got a precinct with the po-po"
 "Bust your pistol"
 "Seekin' five-O"
 "Fight the system"
 "Got a precinct with the po-po"
 "Bust your pistol"
 "Seekin' five-O"
 [Verse 3-Hell Razah]
 In this modern-day era, we be in terror, black Che Guevara's
 On wax we like anthrax wrapped in a letter
 My Beretta is for the slaves with forgotten graves
 Like the names of Dred Scott, we aimin' wit head shots
 Wit scopes and red dots on old prejudice cops
 Who plot on dope blocks with coke measurement drops
 It's more drugs to schools for kids wit no pops
 My hood be like a cemetery
 They gave a project tombstones and sanctuaries
 This for the kids outside that's in the military
 No matter black or Israeli, they both want us buried
 It's a war outside, I hope you gettin' ready
 Get off your celly and stand up and grab a semi-
 Automatic, 'cause momma raised a Hell Razah like Makaveli
 I'd like to pour out some Holy Water
 For all the thug angels we been missin'
 [Outro-Excerpt from The Boondock Saints]
 "One day you will look behind you and you will see we three...
 and on that day, YOU WILL REAP IT!"
 "We will send you to whatever God you wish."
 "And shepherds we shall be, for thee, oh Lord, for thee.
 Power hath descended forth from Thy hand.
 That our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command.
 So we shall flow a river forth to Thee,
 and teeming with souls shall it ever be.
 In Nomeni Patri, Et Fili, Spiritus Sancti."













