Osirus Eyes 歌词
| 歌曲 | Osirus Eyes |
| 歌手 | Killah Priest |
| 专辑 | The Offering |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Moermans, Reed | |
| Yeah, speak now son, Priesthood Records | |
| Yeah, uh, yeah, it's bout it, yeah, that's how we do | |
| [Chorus: Killah Priest] | |
| What ya niggaz want? Go get your sets | |
| Make ya pussies want load up my tec | |
| Attacks like Lions, go straight at the neck | |
| Hyena niggaz down, my paws on their chest | |
| Show you canines before we tear in your flesh | |
| Breathing down your face son I can taste your death | |
| I know you're scared now nigga I see the sweat | |
| Razor-sharp teeth come close like Gillette | |
| [Killah Priest] | |
| I Return like the Prodigal Sunn | |
| Ya could rest our argue is done | |
| Rappers scared they're marveled I've come | |
| Problem one; I could see why I'm startling some | |
| Because I come in peace while my apostles have guns | |
| ("Son of man is his glory with revolvers to lungs") | |
| Now stand still, witness the god while I rob you for funds | |
| I must say - ("Priest spits with a remarkable tongue") | |
| Now let us see with deep flows the Masada has brung | |
| Right before I get in my zone, I sit in my throne | |
| Then I lounge, one foot pivot, while I'm spitting my poem | |
| My poetry so vivid it was written in stones | |
| They say "Priest some sort of mystique; he speaks wisdom of unknown" | |
| I'm the poet blindfolded, my queen's palms cover my ears | |
| So when I wrote this intuition was there | |
| My brain's a replica of Mecca | |
| My mind holds the secrets to Egypt | |
| But however, I stay on some street shit | |
| I write the scrolls on a hundred skulls | |
| My cunning flow's stunning | |
| Is like you're blunt, it has you under control | |
| Mumbling, to yourself while I'm confronting your soul | |
| Priest the deity, meant to crumble the globe | |
| Behold a flow out of this world, throwing dollars at girls | |
| Sliding on poles, to diamonds and pearls | |
| Aligning of the Stars, Priest be Osirus rhyming | |
| My eyelids marked around with black chalk | |
| Like Nas on his album cover I Am... | |
| Like Malcolm my brothers, let's take a stand | |
| [Interlude: Killah Priest] | |
| (Teacher, teacher), The Angel came forth | |
| (Teacher, teacher), holding the scroll giving The Offering | |
| (Tell us more), Said "Say this to the people" | |
| [Killah Priest] | |
| I write street archives with deep dark eyes | |
| My meek hard cries, when I see the murders beneath God's skies | |
| I recorded lose the disc but we keep hard drives | |
| Ask Dreddy, after the flow; show you where bodies are buried | |
| Worries cover the face of Reverend Jesse | |
| Just hold steady, 'bout to drop something old but heavy | |
| Ready, before this rap all I knew was wrapping the grams | |
| Only tracks unknown were the tracks in the arms of Sam | |
| Nigga arm was like a pin cushion | |
| Y'all just starting but I've been Brooklyn | |
| Central booking in '91, in the pens with hoodlums | |
| I sit still like I'm Teddy Pendergrass | |
| What picture should I grab? | |
| My rhymes is like his portal I can see in the past | |
| Some say I'm immortal, dark skinned with the staff | |
| Feel me? you'know'what'I'mean? | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Outro: Killah Priest] | |
| Its real Hip-Hop let me explain something to y'all | |
| This is real Hip-Hop man, y'all been raised off of that bullshit | |
| That Offering, that giving, you'know'what'I'mean? | |
| Here y'all could have it, it's for you, uh |
| zuo ci : Moermans, Reed | |
| Yeah, speak now son, Priesthood Records | |
| Yeah, uh, yeah, it' s bout it, yeah, that' s how we do | |
| Chorus: Killah Priest | |
| What ya niggaz want? Go get your sets | |
| Make ya pussies want load up my tec | |
| Attacks like Lions, go straight at the neck | |
| Hyena niggaz down, my paws on their chest | |
| Show you canines before we tear in your flesh | |
| Breathing down your face son I can taste your death | |
| I know you' re scared now nigga I see the sweat | |
| Razorsharp teeth come close like Gillette | |
| Killah Priest | |
| I Return like the Prodigal Sunn | |
| Ya could rest our argue is done | |
| Rappers scared they' re marveled I' ve come | |
| Problem one I could see why I' m startling some | |
| Because I come in peace while my apostles have guns | |
| " Son of man is his glory with revolvers to lungs" | |
| Now stand still, witness the god while I rob you for funds | |
| I must say " Priest spits with a remarkable tongue" | |
| Now let us see with deep flows the Masada has brung | |
| Right before I get in my zone, I sit in my throne | |
| Then I lounge, one foot pivot, while I' m spitting my poem | |
| My poetry so vivid it was written in stones | |
| They say " Priest some sort of mystique he speaks wisdom of unknown" | |
| I' m the poet blindfolded, my queen' s palms cover my ears | |
| So when I wrote this intuition was there | |
| My brain' s a replica of Mecca | |
| My mind holds the secrets to Egypt | |
| But however, I stay on some street shit | |
| I write the scrolls on a hundred skulls | |
| My cunning flow' s stunning | |
| Is like you' re blunt, it has you under control | |
| Mumbling, to yourself while I' m confronting your soul | |
| Priest the deity, meant to crumble the globe | |
| Behold a flow out of this world, throwing dollars at girls | |
| Sliding on poles, to diamonds and pearls | |
| Aligning of the Stars, Priest be Osirus rhyming | |
| My eyelids marked around with black chalk | |
| Like Nas on his album cover I Am... | |
| Like Malcolm my brothers, let' s take a stand | |
| Interlude: Killah Priest | |
| Teacher, teacher, The Angel came forth | |
| Teacher, teacher, holding the scroll giving The Offering | |
| Tell us more, Said " Say this to the people" | |
| Killah Priest | |
| I write street archives with deep dark eyes | |
| My meek hard cries, when I see the murders beneath God' s skies | |
| I recorded lose the disc but we keep hard drives | |
| Ask Dreddy, after the flow show you where bodies are buried | |
| Worries cover the face of Reverend Jesse | |
| Just hold steady, ' bout to drop something old but heavy | |
| Ready, before this rap all I knew was wrapping the grams | |
| Only tracks unknown were the tracks in the arms of Sam | |
| Nigga arm was like a pin cushion | |
| Y' all just starting but I' ve been Brooklyn | |
| Central booking in ' 91, in the pens with hoodlums | |
| I sit still like I' m Teddy Pendergrass | |
| What picture should I grab? | |
| My rhymes is like his portal I can see in the past | |
| Some say I' m immortal, dark skinned with the staff | |
| Feel me? you' know' what' I' mean? | |
| Chorus | |
| Outro: Killah Priest | |
| Its real HipHop let me explain something to y' all | |
| This is real HipHop man, y' all been raised off of that bullshit | |
| That Offering, that giving, you' know' what' I' mean? | |
| Here y' all could have it, it' s for you, uh |
| zuò cí : Moermans, Reed | |
| Yeah, speak now son, Priesthood Records | |
| Yeah, uh, yeah, it' s bout it, yeah, that' s how we do | |
| Chorus: Killah Priest | |
| What ya niggaz want? Go get your sets | |
| Make ya pussies want load up my tec | |
| Attacks like Lions, go straight at the neck | |
| Hyena niggaz down, my paws on their chest | |
| Show you canines before we tear in your flesh | |
| Breathing down your face son I can taste your death | |
| I know you' re scared now nigga I see the sweat | |
| Razorsharp teeth come close like Gillette | |
| Killah Priest | |
| I Return like the Prodigal Sunn | |
| Ya could rest our argue is done | |
| Rappers scared they' re marveled I' ve come | |
| Problem one I could see why I' m startling some | |
| Because I come in peace while my apostles have guns | |
| " Son of man is his glory with revolvers to lungs" | |
| Now stand still, witness the god while I rob you for funds | |
| I must say " Priest spits with a remarkable tongue" | |
| Now let us see with deep flows the Masada has brung | |
| Right before I get in my zone, I sit in my throne | |
| Then I lounge, one foot pivot, while I' m spitting my poem | |
| My poetry so vivid it was written in stones | |
| They say " Priest some sort of mystique he speaks wisdom of unknown" | |
| I' m the poet blindfolded, my queen' s palms cover my ears | |
| So when I wrote this intuition was there | |
| My brain' s a replica of Mecca | |
| My mind holds the secrets to Egypt | |
| But however, I stay on some street shit | |
| I write the scrolls on a hundred skulls | |
| My cunning flow' s stunning | |
| Is like you' re blunt, it has you under control | |
| Mumbling, to yourself while I' m confronting your soul | |
| Priest the deity, meant to crumble the globe | |
| Behold a flow out of this world, throwing dollars at girls | |
| Sliding on poles, to diamonds and pearls | |
| Aligning of the Stars, Priest be Osirus rhyming | |
| My eyelids marked around with black chalk | |
| Like Nas on his album cover I Am... | |
| Like Malcolm my brothers, let' s take a stand | |
| Interlude: Killah Priest | |
| Teacher, teacher, The Angel came forth | |
| Teacher, teacher, holding the scroll giving The Offering | |
| Tell us more, Said " Say this to the people" | |
| Killah Priest | |
| I write street archives with deep dark eyes | |
| My meek hard cries, when I see the murders beneath God' s skies | |
| I recorded lose the disc but we keep hard drives | |
| Ask Dreddy, after the flow show you where bodies are buried | |
| Worries cover the face of Reverend Jesse | |
| Just hold steady, ' bout to drop something old but heavy | |
| Ready, before this rap all I knew was wrapping the grams | |
| Only tracks unknown were the tracks in the arms of Sam | |
| Nigga arm was like a pin cushion | |
| Y' all just starting but I' ve been Brooklyn | |
| Central booking in ' 91, in the pens with hoodlums | |
| I sit still like I' m Teddy Pendergrass | |
| What picture should I grab? | |
| My rhymes is like his portal I can see in the past | |
| Some say I' m immortal, dark skinned with the staff | |
| Feel me? you' know' what' I' mean? | |
| Chorus | |
| Outro: Killah Priest | |
| Its real HipHop let me explain something to y' all | |
| This is real HipHop man, y' all been raised off of that bullshit | |
| That Offering, that giving, you' know' what' I' mean? | |
| Here y' all could have it, it' s for you, uh |
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