Artist: Hell Razah
Album:  Black Presidents, Vol. 1
Song:   123
Typed by: Knowledge God

[Intro: Hell Razah]
Roll up that dutch
Fokis, Hell Razah, Priesthood, Mellow, Data
Brooklyn, Bed-Stuy, Bushwick, Red Hook

[Hell Razah]
A lot of kitties wanna fuck you when that cash is coming
Tell Bush I spit weapons of mass destruction
Niggas spending half their budget on wack production
I was taught have your own dough, don't ask for nothing
And if she over eighteen then her ass is fucking
Karma Sutra, my mind rule her body and soul
More purer than a diamond that come out of that coal
I reload when I hear the drum roll
Kicks and sneers, my mic switch hands like 'Musical Chairs'
You don't know what I do to careers
We the people under the stairs in projects stroking our beards
If I cry, stigmata got blood in my tears
Write a verse on the Vatican wall, I'm grabbing my sword
And ride in the name of the Lord, I clip wires and chords
Too many rappers who be liars and frauds
It's 'Fahrenheit 9/11' when I hold the weapon
It's Razah, I can take you through Hell or Heaven
A living legend young OG raise the oldies
'70's, Isaac Hayes, my eyes look hazed
For them rebels that I love that's inside the graves

[Chorus 2X: Hell Razah]
It goes '123', you don't wanna get H-I-T
You don't wanna be RIP
Just to try to be in hip hop, oh no