Hell Lyrics - Singles - Pharoahe Monch

F-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-follow for now 

For no formidable fights I've been formed to forget 

For Pharoahe fucks familiar foes first 

Befo' fondlin 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 skrilla's out the hands of these gorillas 

Make the whole world feel us 

From the crack to the cap peelers 

To the niggas in the back shootin craps wit the axe-wheelers 

Relax till it's, time for the immaculate miraculous 

Thirteen, ooww, the illest! 

To all my niggas who been shitted on, let's get it on 

Think I'm gonna let it hang, and sit it on 

The desk of any redneck record exec 

I strike em wit the right hand send em a step 

And 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!) 

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This is Hell, incest kids under pressure 

In the corner clutchin they genitals by the dresser 

A hundred CC's 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 

Martinez, probably 

Just as raw as Lady Saw And Chaka Demus 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, this is, this is, this is 

This is, this is, this is, this is 

Photos 

Yo yo I feel like I'm one of the livest 

One of hip hop's finest, elite rhymers 

And I plan to graduate wit honors 

But one day we'll all be a bunch of old-timers wit Alzheimer's 

Lookin at our label's roster wonderin how the fuck they forgot us 

After we done recorded dozens of albums 

And made em hundreds of thousands of dollars, they still dropped us 

We givin niggas what THE FUCK they want 

A holocaust, stompin niggas wit a thousand man march 

I ain't livin in hell, hell's livin in me 

That's why I'm always screamin on you fuckin MCs 

The shit that I quote, float wit the buoyancy of a boat 

Wit the potency of a scorpion sting to the throat 

Overdose that's extremely fatal 

Doctors in white labcoats scramble for an antidote to save you 

You can't breathe, your chest feels painful 

Your skin color's goin from dark brown to beige-blue 

Your whole room's full of angels 

All in your ear tryin to tell you which God you should pray to 

You pray to Je-sus, but He don't wanna save you 

Cuz you unfaithful, so He gives you to Azazel 

You're paralyzed on the operatin table 

Prayin for Canibus to slice you from head to navel 

You banned from TV, banned from CDs 

Banned from DVDs and downloadable MP3s!