Thankful - Shuko, Hell Razah

Yeah… yeah…

Yeah… Hell Razah… a/k/a… the Renaissance Child

Razah Rubies, the Rabbi

I wanna give a special thanks to everybody out there

That bout the album, you know, I appreciate that

For all the love and the support and everything, knowImean?

Yeah, wings up, throw ya M’s in the air, let’s go

I’m bout that jackpot-jackpot, keeping my gat cocked

Still Red Hook like the G train, last stop

Where black cops take, a percentage from crack spots

Where fans online like I invented the laptop

My black godfather to match my black revolver

With bullets that’ll tear through your vest and body armor

Get turned into martyrs and buried at funeral parlors

And covered up with make-up, keep, fucking our cake up

Your moms’ll be begging the lord for you to wake up

Like Harry Melvin and the Blue Notes, I’ll give you two pokes

Of gun smoke, from my toast, you get too close

This is BK, home of the bosses and kidnappers

Where ice like igloo, picks cold as Alaska

I spit that emerald, saphire and jasper

I’m where the coke so white they call it Casper

And know all the drug kingpins became rappers

And labels wanna buy out artists to keep they masters

What’s a royalty point with no loyalty

With CEO’s wiping they nose, sniffing ya budget up

And tell you that you need more scams to bring your numbers up

It’s all recoupable, from your birth to your funeral

Streets a musical, pay your debts or they suing you

Back at shooting you, it’s whatever’s more suitable…

I wanna thank all my fans, for they love and support

Because it wouldn’t be me without no records you bought

I had to bring it back raw for the streets of New York

And leave something for these critics and these haters to talk

Am I a problem?

A thorn in your side, a suicidal bomb threat

Every morning you rise, and stored in your drive

And programmed to open your mind, I kosher the rhyme

And pray it like a ghetto Rabbi, that stay on the grind

Before any label can sign, I’m doing numbers online

Matter fact, independently fine

Get off of my vine, and go find a mountain to climb

I’m where crime ain’t illegal, with paid bills to feed you

And jars be firing, we, hire those people

Be stuck with the choice of the lesser of two evils

I’m camouflage, you know, I blend with the amazon

Project apartments, turn to pentagons

My sixteen bars, they study in synagogues

Made her shuffle tarot cards, and search for other Gods

It’s odd, but I’m the youngest nigga, ill, that’s far

Cuz I ain’t try’nna be Jay, Pac, Nas or Biggie Smalls

Keep my currency flowing like Niagera Falls

Get it cracking like the Berlin Wall, you hear the Maccabee role call

Bullets travel in your like pinball

I’m banksta, all about deposits and withdrawals

A Fistful of Dollars, I advise you to get yours…

Yo count your money, man… you got it?

A hundred thousand

Take that money (two hundred thousand) and go break bread with ya niggas, man

Three hundred thousand, you good, you good

And teach 'em, all the same thing, no doubt son, yeah, we all leaders

We gon' do it like this… Razah a/k/a the Renaissance Child

I’d like to give a special thanks to the Most High

For waking me up this morning, for making everything real, word up

I’m thankful for the simple things in life, knowhatimean

I’m thankful for being able to see out of my two eyes right now

Hear out of both of my ears… both of them.

word up, I love ya’ll, man

Good looking for supporting the album too, man…