Troy Hightower - Hell lyrics

[Verse 1: Pharoahe Monch] Follow for now For no formidable fights I've been formed to forget For Pharoahe f**s familiar foes first Before fondling female MC's fiercely Focus upon the fact that facts can be fabricated to form lies My phonetics alone forces feeble MC's into defense on the fly Feel me, for real-a Let's get the skrillas out the hands of these gorillas Make the whole world feel us From the crack to the cap peelers To the n***as in the back shooting craps with the axe wielders Relax 'til it's time for the immaculate miraculous Thirteen, ow! The illest To all my n***as who been sh**ted on, let's get it on Dick, I'm gonna let it hang and sit it on The desk of any redneck record exec I strike 'em with the right hand, send 'em a step And this is [Chorus] Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) [Verse 2: Pharoahe Monch] Hell, incest kids under pressure In the corner clutching their genitals by the dresser A hundred CCs of the uncut cleanest In the vein, twenty-four hours of intravenous To the left, we have right-wing extremists On a screen, a man exposes his breasts with no penis My team is probably just as raw as Lady Saw and Chaka Demus is [Chorus] Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) Hell (this is) [Bridge] This is, this is, this is, this is This is, this is, this is, this is [Verse 3: Canibus] Yo, yo, I feel like I'm one of the livest One of hip-hop's finest elite rhymers And I plan to graduate with honors But one day, we'll all be a bunch of old-timers with Alzheimer's Looking at our label's roster Wondering how the f** they forgot us After we done recorded dozens of albums And made 'em hundreds of thousands of dollars, they still dropped us We giving n***as what the f** they want A Holocaust, stomping n***as with a thousand-man march I ain't living in hell, hell's living in me That's why I'm always screaming on you f**ing MCs The sh** that I quote, float with the buoyancy of a boat With the potency of a scorpion sting to the throat Overdose that's extremely fatal Doctors in white lab coats scramble for an antidote to save you You can't breathe, your chest feels painful Your skin color's going from dark brown to beige-blue Your whole room is full of angels All in your ear trying to tell you which God you should pray to You pray to Je-sus, but he don't wanna save you 'Cause you unfaithful, so he gives you to Azazel You're paralyzed on the operating table Praying for Canibus to slice you from head to navel You banned from TV, banned from CDs Banned from DVDs and downloadable MP3s