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[Intro: Killah Priest] |
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Yeah, breathe in, Priesthood |
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Let's do it... |
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[Killah Priest] |
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Slug out, never that, young dude, clever cat |
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Eat shit, smoke spliffs, get high, reminisce |
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Innocence, bulletproof, any one, pullin' through |
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Junior High, do it fly, fuck in grade Summer school |
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Comin' through, get me drunk, blunted too, every month |
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Hundred shoes, every son, wanted jewels, never front |
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Got older, hunger grew, watched most the younger fools |
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Squat out from the guns they usin', not close to the most of them |
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Quarter rolls, microphones, one, two, revolution |
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Sons due, evolution, in a rhyme, ghetto music |
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In the mind, cuz I'm movin, in time, intwine |
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Lines all out of ideas, thoughts expose the road |
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Painted pictures, mask very clear, like a spear |
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Fallin' from the atmos, my raps soaked in the pages |
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Kids I play with, different flavors, instant paper |
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Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
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[Chorus 2X: Killah Priest] |
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I just breathe, the breathe of life in the mics |
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Feel my notepads with sites, now, guide you like God did to Israelites |
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I just breathe, the breathe'll in whole tap |
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Into my cassettes, fate awakin' you, holdin' in like herb in your chest |
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[Killah Priest] |
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I'd rather spit it to it right, then a dome |
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Like a jewel in a throne, microphone, recite a poem |
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Hypotone, mellow out the ghetto route, track thugs meadow out |
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Crack blood devil house, gat slugs, here's your addict |
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Pushers of conceited habits, took us, look and seen me mad it |
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Cash laws, blast hog, gas talk in the hood |
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Black boars, burnin' wood, crack walls turnin' good |
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Nickel bags, crystal mag, blackout, semi' four |
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Black watch, ready for war, sasquatch, fantastic four |
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Blood, strength, through the Clan, wear the colors of our black |
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Love our mothers, love our dads, sister drug out on that glass |
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You ain't mad when they ain't sell refer, jump out the window, chasin' Jesus |
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Hunt me in the garbage, told me, he's a prophet |
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Used to recite scriptures, and dust, now our skin poppin' |
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Gems drop in '88, baby cake, first born |
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I'm crazy late, words long, worst one was '91 |
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[Chorus 2X] |
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[Killah Priest] |
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Second son, I'm stressin' young, blesses come, record deal |
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Kept it real, tess my skills, '96, my third born |
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Word born, vicious like he held him tight, and mellow hobby |
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I'm the father and the author, change my name to Masada |
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First rhyme, search mine, first crime, I stole a ring |
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Sold it, soak in dreams, felt guilty but the feelin' passed |
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Learned to put, all my feelings in my past |
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Kids that had a thinking, took my books and bring |
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Gave you read, all these laws |
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Blow coasts, smoke spliff, old flicks, focused |
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Flip cake, chicks scrape, that's me, thick braids |
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Swift blade, in the pockets, sick days in the projects |
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Slick way, I'm the stocking cap, I just got in rap |
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Family, photo albums, gun, drugs, know the outcome |
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Book, sweater, picture very, wedding flicks, obituraries |
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Lyrics that be military, haunt you like a cemetary |
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Hahahah... breathe in |
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[Chorus 2X] |
