Fear of God Lyrics by Hell Razah

  • Album Release Date: 2010
  • Features : {}

“A spiritually do you fear the wrath of God?”

[Hell Razah]
Lights, cameras, and action
I write down lyrics of passion
A Christ like it’s back then but wit a Mac-10
For all the Romans and the Anglo-Saxons
That old serpent now turned into a dragon
Ever since I was solo I heard ’em taking shots on the low-low
Even though it broke my heart, why? Manolo
I’m loco, can easily snap without a four-door
The wrong one to come up on to get promo
Be with Silverback thugs, we give you bear hugs
When we bussing our guns you need earplugs
If it ain’t war from above then what you scared off?
They ain’t use to no cakes so when they choose they fate
You get the fiery lakes instead of the golden gates
I give bulletproof love so I’m immune to hate
So if you’re bugging the gas then I’m a fumigate
I’m where the angels and the Son of Man communicate
I’m a Rabbi samurai, sword for outta nine
Say goodbye to my pop at five
And inspire for the All-Seeing-Eye
Inside the studio booth could be the alibi
Salute the El Shaddai or each and every tribe
You need a Heavenly mind you wanna read my vibe
I’m on another page (You on the wrong chapter)
Another chalice of grand coo
Cali kush and visual bamboo
This year we flip our money like an Al Green sample
Soon to blow, we ain’t talking bout ya birthday candles
I’m back cuz a rap left you a bad example
When you gamble you lose like the Watergate Scandal
My handle on the trey pound is rubber grip
Go and get any dog you stick and I’m a kill ’em like Michael Vick
I sit like I’m in the cockpit of the mother-ship
Your diamonds is conflict compared to my conscious
I’m in the zone, call me Ron Sterling but just a lil darker
The legendary rap Charlie Parker
The Godfather wit a sharpie marker
More smarter, so I got a better business partner
Jackie Robinson whips, Brooklyn Dodgers
I’m J.A. Rogers wit a chrome revolver
You need Viagra pills to go Carter
I’m more sharper then the ice pick
My mic sick, got the flu virus
Started seance for ghost writers
Go head and sell me out to Pontius Pilate
They blocked their numbers and they call me private
Too many foe tech conversations
Y’all don’t really want no confrontation
Abomination of desolation, got Obama pacing
Back and forth, blessed be the patient
They said I should of been an outpatient
Inside of hospitals its Satan’s matrix
For being God’s favorite who loved Jacob but he hated Essau
Hit the detonator for the C-4 on the Eastern seaboard
For all the soldiers that’s in the street war
I breathe for the younger children that’s on the sea shore
And this circus of this chitterlings circuit
Same Sambo’s but different curtains
So I don’t end up as a missing person
Or bystander when I’m spitting verses
FEMA coffins ain’t no need for hearses
Turn ya gun into the nearest Churches

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