Artist: Sunz of Man Album: Savior's Day Song: S.O.M Typed by: X_Calibur_The_White_Knight@hotmail.com [Hell Razah] S.O.M, S.O.M, night-crawler We ain't new to this game, we ain't lame We don't care bout fame jus' relate to them niggas who be takin' ya chain A-Train on the range anybody could get it Hollow-tips in ya brain any bullet can fit it I.V.'s in ya veins in the back of the clinic When you hear the Sunz Of Man, we ain't comin' with gimmicks Been had bad bitches while we handle our business First time we came out, niggas took it religious Now we back on the scene while you lookin' suspicious like a brother from the hood can't be dealing with riches Seven digits in my bank account, holding my pivot Twenty-four 'bout to take rap over the limits Rollin' up in the whips with our windows tinted Get locked, finger-printed, and be out in a minute It's all over, quit writing, y'all careers just finished It's a rap for these cats sun, pass my Guiness [Hook: Hell Razah (Prodical)] (S.O.M) Who them niggas that the streets love? (S.O.M) Who them niggas that the ladies love? (S.O.M) Who y'all can't fuck wit', sun? (S.O.M) Who them niggas that they really feel? (S.O.M) Who them niggas that they scared of? (S.O.M) Who them niggas in them X5s? (S.O.M) Who them niggas poppin bottles? (S.O.M) [Prodical] We count cash like the lotto, the invincible three Fuck sentimental, it's the great Sunn-Zi Inspired by the late Gandhi, wire money niggas wanna see us fall, that shit is funny Rise to the top, do or die 'til I drop Twist lines greenity, brock, lines of chalk 2 On Da Road, S.O.M we blaze hot Wu-Tang Clan we expand never rot Nationwide, picture on the TV guide Show-time live, CD stings like beehive Love fat asses, tits with big thighs stay high, this play-er, ready for war Heavy machines, 6 series never leary Travel to the game, I stand like Mount Eerie Punch in ya face left ya eye teary Fuck thugs and the jewelry I'm the judge and the jury [Hook] [Hell Razah] It started off as a dream Now happiness is all it could bring Comin' through hard times Now we into stacking our CREAMs Same niggas wanna roll used to laugh at our team and I don't trust this rap shit We keep a gat in our jeans When you sleep niggas creep, seen it happen to Kings Crack fiends livin' longer than my niggas who sling This ain't a magazine shorty, I live without greed I need a seven digit bank account, to take care of my seed Drop a jewel 'bout reality, twistin' my weave Seen families depart 'cause of envy and greed Now we celebrate, love and hate made us elevate Invest our money in the real estate, pop bottles by the case Grab a model by the waist, put a smile upon her face Ain't no doubt what we do sun, I gotta lot of faith Now it's time for a lot of cake We 'bout to eat, nahimsayin? [Hook X3] [Outro: Hell Razah (Prodical) *overlapping hook*] S.O.M. motherfuckers, official That's stamped on ya motherfuckin' forehead Understand? It's time for the desert range And watch who you about to see us put on this game It's about to be on and poppin' Sunz of Man is back in this motherfuckin' house Who the fuck fuckin' wit' us? Motherfuckin' 2 On Da Road, Ghetto Government Motherfucker, what? We 'bout to show y'all 20-02 ain't no motherfuckin' joke Your microchip'll get motherfuckin' rejected That's real baby, (S.O.M.) it's real.. (S.O.M.)