Paroles: Hell Razah. Ultra Sounds Of A Renaissance Child. Crack Baby Cradles.

[Intro: Hell Razah]
Ladies and gentlemen, Renaissance Child

[Hell Razah:]
We burn rosters and rap labels, when I burp
It's a volcano, I spit lava since the lunch table
From the grave to the baby cradle
I have your favorite rapper handicapped and disable
You like a stepson, I help raise you, disrespectful
And unthankful, to everything that your pops gave you
See this rap shit is half snitching
Feds listening so what's the difference
They point you out and they give descriptions
Just labelled it the music business
Same shit got the youth addicted
It's bullet holes in the kitchen when the dope was missing
Coke sniffing in the board room of Richard Nixon
Too many hitmen, don't trust chaffeurs
We snuff bugs in your Range Rover, and put wires on your gang of soldiers
Nextel got your cell tap, it got cameras where we sell crack
In the ghetto where the wealth's at
It's too bad, cause they held back
We came strapped like Geronimo Black
Knock 'em down like dominos, where niggas love following cats
They Power Rulez or they Crips, but we Lost Hebrews
Black Jews in the jungle, cause it's famine of food
Niggas looking at me wrong, cause I'm handing them jewels
I'm like a wiseman stranded on a planet of fools
The cannon'll move when niggas understanding my shoes
Back up, Raze' and Rubix Cube
And I ain't really gon' fuck with this dude, nigga
Get it right, man

[Barack Obama speech]