[Chorus: Hell Razah]
We be those Macs, Macs, Macs
All dressed in black, black, black
With silver buttons, buttons, buttons
Ya'll can't stop nothing, nothing, nothing
We sell our cracks, cracks, cracks
With purple caps, caps, caps
Ya'll can't stop nothing, nothing, nothing
So why you fronting, fronting, fronting?
We be those Macs, Macs, Macs
All dressed in black, black, black
With silver buttons, buttons, buttons
In all white turbans, turbans, turbans
Ya'll can't stop nothing, nothing, nothing
So why you fronting, fronting, fronting?
We sell our cracks, cracks, cracks
In purple caps, caps, caps

[Timbo King]
A million soldiers and they all got Timbs on
A million bitches on my dick, now that Timb's on
Take them shits, oh shit, Money Jim's gone
He had the range with the new spinning rims on
You seen my Timbs with the bandana trims on
Them bitches wear it when they rock to Lil' Kim songs
Me and po-po, no, we don't get along
Go hit the block for a week, get my money on
You'se a lame, me and you can't do a song
The type of cat that do shit all wrong
Some kid stepped on my shit, we had to get it on
Yo, what we drinking on, Bo? Don Perrigion
I got 'em rocking Timbs all the way in Hong Kong
Cheerleader, pom-poms, with they thongs on
Can't get in the club, you better strongarm
It's Bo King, Maccabeez, n***a, lord long
[Killah Priest]
My gun is a Bible, the bullet's a burst
The doctors is the ushers, and the hoodlums in church
The snitch is the choir, the projects is the pits and the fire
A dope fiend, left his crack pipe and kids is Isiah
It's Priest, Ghetto Jesus with malt liquor
I redeem the sinner, with slugs and reload switches
It's Razah, Renaissance Child with Timbo
Doubting in, soul of the old Al, I call him Timbuk Africa
Priest, praise the lord, wave the four
AK to your jaw, the braves on the wall
Brains on the floor, name on the board
In the funeral hall, remain in the morgue
A Maccabee with Black Market fatigues
I'm the God of the Seas, hold up, pardon me
I mean, the God of who sees, pardon me
I mean, the God of M.C.'s...

[Chorus: Hell Razah]
We be those Macs, Macs, Macs
All dressed in black, black, black
With silver buttons, buttons, buttons
In all white turbans, turbans, turbans
Ya'll can't stop nothing, nothing, nothing
So why you fronting, fronting, fronting?
We sell our cracks, cracks, cracks
In purple caps, caps, caps
[Hell Razah]
I'm Razah Rubies, dance through Egypt with an uzi
My camp be them 70 cats, rocking an cuffi
From Maccabee to Makaveli, they see our chains heavy
You try to snatch, and leave ya brains to spaghetti
Chopped meat, got beef, keep it hot in the streets
We got Pataki waking out of his sleep
My nightmares coming to creep, my murder weapon was a looseleaf
The language is deep, I spit it for the pain of my peeps
It's the Judah triangle, with black angels
None of our seeds sang the Star Spangled Banner
They got manners from they grandmamas, we worldwide
With antennas on our hood grammar, they can't understand us
Tell the media, we break they cameras
If they keep fucking looking at us, Maccabeez, yea

[Chorus]