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    Run Dmc »

    Run Dmc Back From Hell (Remix) текст песни

    Back From Hell (Remix)

    (feat. Chuck D, Ice Cube)

    [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 butt from a inmate’s head

    So sorry for you sucker, see ya, sissy, you’re dead

    Another rolled-over casket, tisket, a tasket

    This ain’t no thanks to the pussy-ass bastard

    Easy for another man to laugh at his face

    Like I said, his head to bed, another dead inmate

    Raw to the bone and killed 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 shit

    From the lower level

    Ice Cube’ll beat the shit 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 nigga got shot by a dopefiend

    Snort down my dick and unbottoned on my jeans

    Then the fuckin 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 niggas that I clowned

    Jumped on a plane cause it never fails

    Ice Cube is a muthafucka 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 fuck 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 button

    Talkin mo’ shit, 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 nigga like D starts yellin)

    (Yeah)

    (Back) (back)

    (Now) (now a nigga like D starts yellin)

    (Back)

    (Now) (now a nigga like D starts yellin)

    (Back)

    (Now) (now a nigga like D)

    [VERSE 4: D.M.C.]

    Back from hell, now a nigga 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 fuck are they yellin?)

    Lyrics that I kick might just get me into pee and shit

    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

    Niggas 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 nigga shit

    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)



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