Artist: Hell Razah
Album:  Black Presidents, Vol. 1
Song:   U Ain't Nice as Hell
Typed by: Knowledge God

[Hell Razah]
I try to stay out of drama, give my life to the Heavenly Father
'92 we had fetish for them heavy revolvers
We die like martyrs, underground call me Osama
Playing siege like a farmer off of physical karma
Spiritual armour, bring me more Medals of Honour
I'm not your average MC, son, my level is sharper
My ghetto is smarter, children of them biblical authors
Abraham, Lord Sheik must continue the saga
Revelations to a nine proved that Christ was darker
Than the paintings on your walls in your living room halls
Tattooed on your arms, on your chains and charms
Tell mom's that I love her God for singing me songs

*instrumental*

[Hell Razah]
Let's take it back to army jackets and rolling phillies
When crack willies was the only cats with 9 millis
We used to cut school, hit the city, fucking with young chickies
Snuck in the movies free and feel their titties
Run in Macy's with a mob with me, taking whatever's pretty
Sell it for half price and buy a fifty
Cab rides to the Alibi, back to the hallway
Old gold 40's we mix with the E&J
House party's got shot up, lucky we that we ain't stay
Heard homie got bodied for something that he ain't say
In my PJ's on Red Hook Day, I was the main event
I reminisce and think of these days and how they came and went