[ INTRO: Chuck D ]. 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. [ *Jam-Master Jay cuts up* ]. (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 at?) (..comin back from hell). [ VERSE 1: Run ]. 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 phone. Mommy'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)... [ VERSE 2: Ice Cube ]. 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'