Lyrics
Yo, I still be scheming off loss I can take
My kids be screaming wit more sauce on their plate
Dollar rice and gravy, not a T-bone steak
From the «Keystone State», see the chrome scrape
Family of dope dealers will be at home tape
Don’t black mask again, lie and wait
My old school .38 beside your fate
It’s the mind of black prisoners behind the gate
Don’t know nothing but straight cutting and the grind I make
And it’s so raw; they snort every line I shake
It’s that classic killa wax kept inside the crate
It’s a soundtrack for hell in every rhyme I make
I gotta bond wit the block, burden to the angels
Project Mary wearing silver and gold Bengal’s
In a dirty white robe, wit the hair all tangle
Going to jail or hell, cuz of my murderous angles
(Chorus) Priest 4x
Life and Death is like a carnival in cemeteries
Ain’t nobody left that’s honorable they all been buried
I drank your wrath and ate your violence
Swallowed destruction, now guzzle my pain by gallons
Praying in silence, my brain is an insane asylum
Let’s take a train thru the vains of Sodom
I came from the bottom
Like a tree when it springs in autumn
I came in crawling
A day in August and we stayed bossing
Till we stay flossing, till we laying in coffins
I wash my face wit blunts
Clean my hairs wit the stories of the niggas that the streets feared
Brush my teeth wit corruption
The comet is coming, the projects is crumbling
Stunning, I stared in the mirrors of murals
I saw death in peril, Michael and Uriel, attending his burial
Washed my shirt wit tears
Splashed my shoes wit beers
We the last ones here
(Chorus) Priest 4x
Yeah, emerald coffins, sprinkling of amatheist
No offense but bury me like I am the Christ — of the streets
They promise paradise for the price of a peach
And it’s right in your reach
Your devil decorators gave us somewhere nice to sleep
The medic exam rum brick or ice on your feet
Look at the clouds draped in a shroud
Thunders, just a sound of spirits mumble and loud
Call us the Ghetto Kabbalah, unforgettable drama
It’s either medical doctors or the federal box us
The devil just watch us, rose pedals are dropping on caskets
Stole Yaqub’s ash, placed 'em in carats
Now I can see Israel shine every time when I’m writing these tablets
In the heat of the madness, I still bring magic like Jesus in Nazareth
Kamachi & Priest, see that’s a classic
Believe it and that’s it, we write deep graphics
(Chorus) Priest 4x