R.A.Z.A.H. - Hell Razah, 4th Disciple

Yeah, bounce to this

Yeah, bounce, uh Shake ya titties, mom, yeah

Come on, one love, for the shorties

Outta Browns, son, nigga right now

Chicks, go get me a drink

Eyein’a nigga right now

Let’s go over there, who pop on that side?

Razah, Zah, Zah, Zah

Ra, Zah, Zah

She like rocks like The Flintstones

Hit chicks in all skin tones

Young chicks can’t wait to get bonned

I’m like the floor you get slip on I love my dunns when they clips long

Max Julian, son, that ain’t gangsta

We smack niggas outta anger, shit

Get locked up, turn spoons into bangers

What, hit the chick, got her givin’me money

Rubbin’in my cuffshots, all over her tummy

She like Iceberg, the ch&agne

We outta raise a Razah c&aign

She don’t get a damn thing

Not a cow, who here, dollars bill and shit

Still lay up in the lab eatin’mills and shit

Got these industry niggas talkin’deals and chips

A&R's losin’jobs when they hear my shit

I roll my weed up and whips don’t spill the shit

The same way we came in ships, we leave in ships

My niggas got g’s to get, and squeeze the clips

Ain’t no hustlin’for petty crumbs, weed and kicks

Yeah, who that nigga they ain’t fuckin’wit

Spit wisdom deep shit, rock fly shit

Only fuck wit real niggas on the field, nigga

Hell Razah, Child of Israel, niggas can’t fuck with him

They better duck from him, don’t fuck with him

I’m Max Julian, the millionaire mind inside a hooligan

The wise one out the foolish men

And trust go the god, when you really find out whose ya friends

I stay droppin’jewels and gems, and coops and timbs

A marksmen sharpshooter when I use the pen

Sittin’on twenty inch rims, cadillac in New York if you like it or not, it’s what’s crackin'

Shorties on the Greyhound bus, is what’s crackin'

Hoes only made for those who stay mackin'

Clubs only made for those who stay stackin'

Got everything from Phat Farm to Brickface jackets

My forty-four eleven take you ace step stackin'

Never come to BK, chained and ring flashin'

Niggas will take ya shit is what’s crackin'

High off the hydro-weed and thug passion

Chicks swallow ecstasy but love action

When Razah get signed, that’s it, it’s closed caskets

Ya little bastards

Take that, muthafuckin', fake ass

Soundin’like other niggas ass niggas

Muthafuckas ain’t even got their own look

Muthafuckas trynna act like they gangstas

Ya niggas better do the knowledge man

Fuckin’lost muthafuckas

Yeah, get the knowledge, get the knowledge

The project prophet, show ya niggas the other shit

Take the muthafuckin doo-rags off

Ya ain’t thugs, you get locked up Ya niggas be tellin’on them, who do ya love

And them shorties ya got, ya bout to get that up

G.G.O's is in this bitch, G.G.O.'s is in this bitch

They leavin’wit us, and don’t hate, what