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
(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 atà) (..comin back from hell)
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 phoneMommy'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)..
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)
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)
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)
Run-DMC was an American hip-hop group formed in Hollis, Queens, New York City in 1983 by Joseph Simmons, Darryl McDaniels, and Jason Mizell. Run-DMC is regarded as one of the most influential acts in the history of hip-hop culture and especially one of the most famous hip-hop acts of the 1980s. Along with Beastie Boys, LL Cool J, DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, and Public Enemy, the group pioneered new-school hip-hop music and helped usher in golden age hip-hop. The group was among the first to popularize the MC and DJ relationship.
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