[Intro: Bronze Nazareth]
Where we at, where we at?
Yeah, uh-huh, Sodom and Gomorrah (Bronzeman, where we at, where we at?)
313, school for the blindman, n***a (where we at, where we at?)
Straight off the great migration (where we at, where we at?)
Detroit the new school, 313 stand up (where we at, where we at?)
School for the blindman (where we at)
I got you (where we at, where we at?)
Where we at, where we at?
What up though? (where we at?)
Get your butt ready! (where we at, where we)

[Hook: Bronze Nazareth]
We livin' in Sodom and Gomorrah
And at the bottom of the soil, in the deepest of the hole
Where the leeches won’t crawl and the people want oil
Lies Detroit
We livin' in Sodom and Gomorrah
Where scars from the cotton made God’s fruit rotten
And maybe God forgot ‘em
So where does he go if his soul left his body from Detroit?

[Verse 1: Bronze Nazareth]
So maybe God forgot us
Like white man forgot cotton built a nation
But it's no jobs for him
So my mind went exploring on diesel trips
Sidewalks littered with eagle clips
Witness flowers on poles
Models on poles with evil hips
T-shirts adorned with the face of he who slipped
Got cousins down south, from firsthand, I seen this shit
From off the hip the priest release doves from his grip
They love us for our teams but fuck a statistic
If he ain't make it or slip, it's onto the next script
Focus and lift immense weight just to make it
In dire straits, who's to say Mitt Romney wouldn't bake it and cut it?
My God, it's ugly but, but you won't throw the mirror out
You won't throw the infant and the Aquafina out
Document this, let's take the scenic route (let's take the scenic route)
[Hook: Bronze Nazareth, Killah Priest]
We livin' in Sodom and Gomorrah
And at the bottom of the soil, in the deepest of the hole
Where the leeches won't crawl and the people want oil
From Brooklyn
We livin' in Sodom and Gomorrah
Where scars from the cotton made God's fruit rotten
And maybe God forgot 'em
So where does he go if his soul left his body from Brooklyn?

[Verse 2: Killah Priest]
Brooklyn, the A train, the J train
Run through my body like veins
Bear arms with dope fiend tracks
Look back, there's crack
There's strapped hustlers
Customers scat, bust blood on the halls
Brothers in malls, we love 'em names colored in walls
Street fame, n***as from Gates Ave
Mark was a great man, put his face in the stained glass
Just like a saint passed
Gunshots so loud, you would think that a tank blast
Cops crowd around a young man on the train, stabbed
So here's a frame or rope chain for cats in the dope game
No love for the no lames or Gs off the coke lane
So toads run from Nostrand
Hoodlums come off of Putnam
Bushwick is flooded with Muslim
And this is Brooklyn, Queens, the islands of central bookings
[Hook: Bronze Nazareth]
We livin' in Sodom and Gomorrah
And at the bottom of the soil, yeah, in the deepest of the hole
Where the leeches won't crawl and the people want oil
Lies Gun Rule
We livin' in Sodom and Gomorrah
Where scars from the cotton made God's fruit rotten
And maybe God forgot 'em
So where does he go if his soul left his body from Gun Rule?

[Interlude: Sample]
So stop, it's just too (stop!)

[Verse 3: Bronze Nazareth]
Gun Rule, where gutted buildings is screaming out
Crack fiends walk but they souls is beaten out
Clouds is bleeding down
Rain hail, sleet shells
SWAT team's across the street, I hear 'em yell
Schools missing books K-12
Granholm or grams, which one'll help me excel?
Stop this mistreatment in this sweltering hell (so stop this mistreatment)
Yo, yeah, big city of ruins
Potholes and caught souls all in your viewin'
Block roads, my people who accepted my union
Still I lock and load while I'm protecting my movement
But they got us cold-hearted, flipping weight to survive
My building's like the Matrix inside
Rats, crackheads, and alley flies
Broken streets, a Moses divide
Well, Mama ain't push him so he had to throw knives
Got a pitbull in cold nights, roll dice in old piss
I blow weed sticks, smoke kiss my magnum opus
Next to hope and open tombs of asbestos
Structure their best chance right out a Bible lesson
The roofs cave in, shots hit like Aaron Maybin
At night, it's nightmares, our mayor Wes Craven
It makes a n***a heinous, it makes a n***a flame the aimers
A child of a lesser god whose pain is famous
So we shoot and oil our guns with grease from chicken coop
Mad Ave, stressed out street, the cops is troops
Vacation'll get ya probation in Gun Rule
[Outro: Sample]
So stop, it's just too bad
So stop, it's just too bad
So stop, it's just too (stop!)
So bad
So stop, it's just too
Too bad
So stop, it's just too (stop!)
So bad