Song Lyrics Raekwon the Chef - Heaven Hell    [Lyrics & Song Text Archive]
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Author/Artist/Singer: Raekwon the Chef
Music Title/Track: Heaven Hell
Theme ID: 1286
Album: N/A


* originally featured on the _Fresh_ soundtrack



Intro: Raekwon, Ghostface



Yo what what, yo

Exotic type shit

Ninety-four, we must go to war fast

With the pen and the pad

God damn, shine like gold rims on Pathfinders

Wu-Tang reclines, lamps, for the nine-squares kid

Money clothes designer hoes and shows y'all



Lyrics: Raekwon, Ghostface



Yo, yo, wakin up about ten kid

Jumpin in the shower, peace about to make

moves and slide like greese

What?I'm all about Tecs and checks and nuff respect you front

I'm slammin you like the Lex

So now I'm out in the ninety-five

Rockin that real nigga don't die

Guess down

Drawers Kani!

But yo I'm makin a pit stop

Go and buy a box of glocks, til he rolled up and yo

Whattup Hobbes?

Yo, remember that kid that we vicked

He made a half of mil for real

He brought about fo' bricks

Yo, so now we connect doors, meet me at the airport

TELL GOLDEN ARMS MAINTAIN THE FORT

Get in touch with that West coast Cali crab you stabbed

And meet me at the bitch lab

So word up kid, we slid like a fat four to twelve bid and shit

Couldn't even rest, I need the vic

And when I slept, I dream G's, Son I need some

Keys roll self, call up Son

I heard Pook and Tyriq caught a beef over some real shit

A fake nigga faked and they killed his click

Gimme a minute and I'm with it

Yo niggaz done did it

Rock your vest

Keep your whip tinted

So now we see him up in BoJangles

Stranglin a forty ounce, with ten G's worth of gold bangles

Diamonds, what, all up in his face

With his man's mace, medallions the size of dinner plates

Yo, he knew we knew him so we blew him

Took thirty G's worth of jewels of that nigga

DO HIM!

So now I'm lampin in my man's Land

Streets is hot like sand

Jesus rollin in my right hand

Yup, you know the steezo black

Got to go down like that

Shallah

Cigars

AND BALL HATS



Outro:



Ninety-four, takin niggaz to war, yo, yo



What do you believe in?Heaven or hell?

You don't beleive in heaven cause we're livin in hell

(repeat 2X)

So it's your life

*we're livin in hell, we're livin in hellllllll*

What a chamber, fuckin with mad strangers

Yeah, you know how it runs baby, straight up yo

Money clothes, designer hoes and shows y'all

That's how it goes

Whatever



What do you believe in?Heaven or hell?

You don't believe in heaven cause we're livin in hell

31st chamber y'all

So it's your life



(What do you believe in?Heaven or hell?)

Niggaz ain't even know Son, only half is sewed cash

(You don't believe in heaven cause we're livin in hell)

They haven't yet sold their weight

(What do you believe in?Heaven or hell?)

Question, shit is real, youknowhatI'msayin

(You don't believe...)

Niggaz think it's all about a real live Allah

A little hundred dollars and that make you a man

KnowhatI'msayin?

You ain't even promised tomorrow Son, word up

Niggaz don't understand how life can be so short

Come so fast

With the blinkin of eye, blinkin of eye you're gone baby

Straight up, knowhatI'msayin, get turned to dust

Return to the casket

That ass is out Son, word up

Word up, get evaporated, straight up

Word up

Lose all your strength nigga

Crazy dedication shout out to the memory of Two Cent Jason

Heartbroken, we soakin wet though

Keepin it real for my peopls

Yeah, yo

And my physical brother DeVon, you're still in here baby

Because you're in my arms nigga, word up

I never let you go baby

YouknowhatI'msayin?You my life charm, word up

For real

Keep shinin

Real for keepin it real, shout out to major niggaz

Big Kawai, Jess, Hell in the computer system

The RZA, who slams fat discs for the ninety-four

Word up, RZA, he's my nigga baby

Yeah, eatin dinner with the big boys now

YaknowhatI'msayin?

Word up, Big Booth represent the Q

Knowhowedo, lamp, get that power-u, type, things on float

GZA, word up, Master Killer

The don of the Clan, Method Man, Inspector Deck

Dirty Bastard

U-God, word up baby

Keep it real Son

Keep packin them guns

Word up


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