Run D.M.C. - Back From Hell (Remix) lyrics

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Run D.M.C. - Back From Hell (Remix) lyrics

[ INTRO: Chuck D ] Yo Once again From the dephts of hell Run-D.M.C Yo, Jam-Master J-J-Jay in the house And y'all take this [ *Jam-Master Jay cuts up* ] (From the dephts of hell) (Heaven is cool, in hell you burn) (I cut the head of the devil and I throw it at you) (Heaven is cool, in hell you burn) (On a lower level where the devils dwell Comin from the one..) (where they at?) (..comin back from hell) [ VERSE 1: Run ] I'm comin back from hell, a jail cell tells no tales The walls, the floors, the blinds, it never fails To catch a little bu*t from a inmate's head So sorry for you s**er, see ya, sissy, you're dead Another rolled-over casket, tisket, a tasket This ain't no thanks to the p**y-a** ba*tard Easy for another man to laugh at his face Like I said, his head to bed, another dead inmate Raw to the bone and k**ed him for the phone Mommy's only son, but left his mama alone The last words he heard "Your time is up", the result Caught back around, his naked face cut to a pulp Never knew he'd go to jail doin murder and he fell (Reporting live from Rikers Island) and comin back from hell (From the dephts of hell) (Back) (back) (from hell) (Back from hell) (Back) (from hell) (Back) (back) (from hell) (Back) (back) (back from hell) (Yeah) (Back) (back) (back).. [ VERSE 2: Ice Cube ] Back from hell But I still smell the same old sh** From the lower level Ice Cube'll beat the sh** out the devil Nothin changed, still down with the P.E., son But now I'm raising hell with Run Nearly gettin done from the sawed off shotgun Pressin they luck, didn't duck, I hauled off and socked one Don't laugh, hoes, cause I'm down with The Afros Ice Cube ain't The Mack, but I have hoes JMJ drop the hammer And I kick grammar That's mackaframalama Had to ask D.M.C. and the 40oz. Crew What's it all about on the avenue He said, "Come see," gave me a swig of Olde E Then I had to pee upon a tree A n***a got shot by a dopefiend Snort down my dick and unbottoned on my jeans Then the f**in Lench Mob had to get mean Did a drive-by in the middle of Queens Hot shells hit the ground People stood around, all the n***as that I clowned Jumped on a plane cause it never fails Ice Cube is a muthaf**a goin back to hell (Back) (back) (from the dephts of hell) (Back) (back) (from the dephts of hell) [ VERSE 3: Chuck D ] Back up - they can never keep a good man down Of course we don't f** around You don't know what I mean? Don't mistake us for the Tragically Hip Cause we're born with the trigger lip Here's a story about the devil And the rebel in the middle of a battle With a crew that grew around the avenue This devil was a federal judge who delivered us justice Just us, up the river, but I'm not alone and no one is, his name up against Cause he's been runnin the hoes and the drug thing I know he fought and runnin court, pusher of the bu*ton Talkin mo' sh**, but sayin nothin now Cause he's seein the faces he saw sit-packin Hardcore and all black and Raw, and you can tell No matter how loud he yell, he ain't leavin hell (Back) (back) (Back) (back) (Back from helllll) (Back from hell) (From the dephts of hell) (Back) (back from hell) (Back from hell) (Back from hell) (From the dephts of hell) (Back) (back from hell) (Back) (back) (back from hell) (Now a n***a like D starts yellin) (Yeah) (Back) (back) (Now) (now a n***a like D starts yellin) (Back) (Now) (now a n***a like D starts yellin) (Back) (Now) (now a n***a like D) [ VERSE 4: D.M.C. ] Back from hell, now a n***a like D starts yellin No sellin out, no tellin who's sellin Word to the 90s, rebels still rebellin Cube, Run and Chuck (yo, what the f** are they yellin?) Lyrics that I kick might just get me into pee and sh** That I'm not with and critics can get the diddick Hits comin crazy, trips for the gravy Played me, paid me, little lady laid me Doooowwnnn to the dephts of heeeellllll Now here we go, and once again We're back from hell, so tell a friend For all of you who thought we're through I'm a full-fledged member of the Hollis Crew I bust a nine or a rhyme or two You know I grew, up on (the avenue) I'ma sip on some brew with my crew We was gettin illy n***as came through actin silly One punk starts to yell 2 shots, then his man fell He didn't know that Hollis Ave. was hell Don't tell me you ain't with this You think I fell? Chump, that is ridiculous You missin lyrics of the microphone king I grip Figure this, but yo, this is n***a sh** Black I.P.'s, MC's wanna-be's Macaroni and cheese, only phoney MC's Play the role and always try to cook up I got tunes, room that I took up Oh well, you know I still dwell Go and tell everybody that I'm back from hell (Dephts of hell) (Back) (from the dephts of hell) (Back) (Back) (back) Drop it on em, D (Back) (Back) (back) (Back) (Back) (back)