Streets To The Studio

[Intro: Hell Razah (Killah Priest) {Timbo King}]

Yo come here Priest!

(Yo Razah I know you're crazy)

What's good? {Maccabeez}

Maccabeez International (Yo where ya bullets be?)

Saudi Records {Yeah word up Razah, Killah Priest} (You know!)

(Yo this one is gonna be the craziest joint in all the clubs around the way)

M's up (in the United States of America, son)

Yeah... y'all get in ya Mac mode, ya heard?

(Y'all gon' get sick when you hear this... Let's go in on 'em son!)

[Timbo King:]

In the studio...

All these actors now got new reality shows

Why from the streets where reality shows... the last Great Dane

Armageddon power, drink Amaretto Sour

Louie Vatton, camouflage and Eddie Bauers

Ezekial's will, riding down evil's hill

Deceivers will, get ya whole peoples killed

The promise of peace, yeah is nothing but a disguise

I got a piece of pussy right here in front of my eyes

High as a Priest, smoking on his Isaac Hayes

Born in the seventies, Franky Beverly Mays

Nigga who? Jigga boo, we The Maccabeez

Last supper up at Applebys, so break bread with us

Women of all kinds go to bed with us

Runaway slaves escaped and then they fled with us

Repent now or forever burn in flames

I ain't even gotta tell you my name... mother father

[Chorus x2: Hell Razah]

From the streets to the studio, back where the party's at

More haze, more Cognac

Where my ladies is at with them diamonds and Cadillacs

Coats, bags and a hat to match

[Hell Razah:]

In the streets...

Record labels is ya slave owners

So when I spit my shit I be a flamethrower

I ain't Lil' Flip, shorty, but it's 'Game Over'

All these killas in soaps could use a makeover

I've been ready to ride before my baby stroller

So what you hopping out, G5's or Range Rovers?

I be a 'dro roller, white widow chain smoker

Red Coronas, I sip and throw the drink on ya

Or I could spit out a blade and put a shank on ya

See I ain't mad at ya, I'm a get the last laughter (Haha)

Too many wack rappers underneath that mascara

When you meet 'em they broke and they be mad braggers

Talking like they got swagger and they give their A&R jobs to these black crackers

We was crack baggers, y'all niggaz backpackers

Throwing stones at us barking up the wrong ladders

This for y'all chrome grabbers dick-grabbing backstabbers

[Chorus x2]

[Killah Priest:]

They call me Priest, La Shiek, had my freaks

G.D. apparel, six in my barrell, sits like a Pharaoh

Of Egypt, weed lit, mad ho's like I'm Freak Niq

Chicks just come in with their bathrobes

Cowgirl boots, hats and a lasso

She's riding my lap while my finger's in her asshole

Her onion is fat but it's all about that cash though

Cool can't knock her, she said she got her boots from Dockers

And should could move for dollars

But I'm hard as a wood bat, I don't need a good rap

All I need is a hoodrat, this is where you put that

In yo' mouth, on yo' blouse, on yo' floor in yo' house

On yo' couch, when I'm done grab me guns then I'm out

My sixteen bars is automatic ink

My clip release hit y'alls right where you think

Got a scope in my pen, Maccabeez hold me down

[Chorus x2]