Hell's Kitchen Songtext
von OG Hindu Kush

tell the district attorney this didn′t concern me
i was in Hell's Kitchen fixin′ the fish & the curry
lamb for the slaughter, seasoned in turmeric powder
jealous queen, tell a story of murder and power who else you know this Rico Suave 'bout RICO laws?
it's ′cause we don′t lob doggy, naw we go off
keep it locked like the Eastern Block
feasting off the flesh and the pheromones like "Hi Honey, Taran's home"
watch her race for the apron and maple sizzurp
and let her skull game shine like Damien Hirst
shorty knows that i don′t suffer, fools
the rules taught me to buck 'em and do unto others as others have done to you
so, if your best friends run with the Beast like X-Men
expect ′em to end up slumped in the West End
what you gon' do when You-Know-Who
roll by, bow-tie, Brother Mouzone suit?
we Army of God′s Children, zombies with hearts missin'
got Luther and John with us, runnin' credit card scams
eyes red, no retinal scan
we get cake, get it straight, then invest it in land


(hook)

i feel like God behind these bars, every sentence is holy
man, even my pedastal′s on a level to blow me
so you gettin′ to know me, you should step to me slowly
and know that my only interest in you's to collect what you owe me
I ain′t sweatin your shorty but if that bitch is fine
a single line, i'll stick it to her back like a ′kick-me' sign
on a Quest like McCody for Incredible Hulk green
I said get me a whole P but it better be OG
go fetch me some rollies, your connect doesn′t know me
I bet he only roll with Bunk like Detective McNulty
your baby mama Adrianna get dumped where the hogs ate
if she singin' like Kanye and they buildin a strong case
she a #1 bitch and this isn't a dog race
pull strings for the boss like Silvio Dante
while I grin with the mob face, you say that bitch deserved it
Mr. Perfect, crack an OJ smile when I get the verdict

(hook)


live from the psych ward, ridin′ with a dyke whore
dime, she cryin cuz she Chi-er (shyer) than a Vice Lord
crimes committed is my life story
I should be signed to the court-room while the district attorney writes for me
nobody bettin against it ′cause I got deadly intentions
ready to vent and I only need the medic's attention
I′m more morbid than going door-to-door to record horror
I'll put you in your trunk up under your spoiler
I keep pushin′, I beat bush when
I speak, more bullshit comes up outta me than the freak douchin'
I keep lookin′ for guns like police under my seat cushion
out to complete just what the weak wouldn't
I'm a shit starter
so tell your bitch I′m a 10 on the dick chart, get smart ′cause I hit harder
I'm a sick martyr
you tryna massage the clit, I′m tryna stick my arm in her rim like Vince Carter
(hook)