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IT'S WARRRRRR |
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(Hook) |
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We are one, we move as a unit, this is our mic, we are one! |
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(Who is your general private?) |
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Killah Priest We fight the ungodly |
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With the righteous sword of justice |
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And we will follow him all the days of our life |
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We are one, we move as a unit, this is our mic, we are one! |
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The plot was to stop the Nazarene break up his black regime |
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Smash his dreams from being the greatest that rap has seen |
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They laugh while scheming on ways to stop him having cream |
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That's blasphemy to not mention his name in magazines |
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Luckily the young warrior had mad esteem |
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He kept writing, back in his lab he hit his pad extreme |
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And in the midst of all the chaos he took half his team |
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Called 'em Black Market and Maccabeez |
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While the serpent use the worldly things to attract his queen |
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Broke his heart she played the part Mary Magdalene |
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Hissing his words that the other side of the grass was green |
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But I ain't trying to hold you baby go ahead flap your wings |
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Gun in the waist of his baggy jeans stayed strapped |
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Yankee cap above his durag lean |
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Police that pass flash sirens outside his projects |
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Where the dealers push crack to fiends |
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There he did some soul searching now he's back redeemed |
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Look at his album cover stained glass of the King |
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Wallpapers of gangsters hang up |
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Next to King Solomon Amen Ra and King Tut |
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Beneath that incense burns frank incense the fragrance of the prince |
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Priests the saint the angels fight in his defense light the hemp |
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It's bright take a glimpse at the crouching statues |
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Within the tall fence of his castle |
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(Hook) |
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I called on Michael, Gabriel and Uriel to pull me from Hell |
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A jury of twelve await my burial |
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They said they want my great material |
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My vision blurry can't tell I hear the bells near the church steeple |
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Where Rafael awaits his fate break the curse of evil |
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I'm holding rosemary beads it's scary roll the hairy weed |
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Inside the blackberry leaves |
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Its cold but what worries me will my crew leave when they bury me come hurry see |
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The Brotherhood climbing a hillside at the fall of darkness |
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The night arches over the projects |
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As they speak of the legacy of Priest the artist |
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They share words of his hardship |
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And he sung his psalms to a harpist |
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His garment was blood soaked |
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Around his crown he wore halo of blunt smoke below his navel his guns poked |
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So may this Offering give your thoughts wings? |
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May it fly high start soaring pass the corpse of kings |
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Beyond the cloud scraping mountains, travel the way of the falcon |
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To a tucked away enchanted Island |
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You land see the ruins of his old palace |
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The wide stone steps that leads to his throne |
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You see his face made of hard stone, he just sit there and zone |
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My eyes are open but they're empty as the painted eyes on a doll |
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Walk inside the fog sit beside my catalogue |
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See his face? It aged to something strange come in range |
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Upon his sculpture grows weed vines with small rosebuds |
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So show love to the Priest revelations and this is my salvations |
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This is my salvation |
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(Chant) |
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(Hook) |
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'King of Mysteries, who wast and art |
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Before the elements, before the ages |
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King eternal, comely in aspect |
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who reigns forever, grant me three things: |
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Keenness to discern your will |
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Wisdom to understand it |
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Courage to follow where it leads.' |
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"Salvation isn't just about being saved from Hell after you die. |
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It's also about being saved from yourself while you're still alive." |
