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Текст песни Killah Priest - View From Masada

Killah Priest - View From Masada слова песни

Masada2000[ VERSE 1 ]My .44 calicol will silence y`all souls, MasadaThe ghost of the most prolific writerUpon my death bed in roast in fireSee my most desiresSmell the smoke from my flesh as my ghost rise upHear the voices of 100 choirsAnd angels looking down at my body attached to wiresPriest kissed by the widow spider that spit salivaI write for lifers and boxers at RikersI write painBlue ink replaced the blood in my veinsThug in this game, flooded up ringsCluttered up change, quick to pop a slug in your brainIf you a killer, then slugs we exchangeWe like the mobsters, bullet shells and choppersCop cars and road blockers, they tryin to knock usCatch us duck behind the bitches, d`s tryin to pop usOn CBS News while the world watch us[ CHORUS ] I do this shit for my thugs I do this shit for the chicks at the club I do this shit for the niggas that I love I do this shit for the streets, cause a nigga gotta eat, luv (2x)[ VERSE 2 ]I write theories that`s motion pictures, y`all hear me? I spit it clearly to roast y`all niggas, feel me?Gangster, life of a don my iconSling on my right arm, rubber grip tight in my left armBody suited with teflon, it`s BrooknamRaise a eyebrow at the child, respectfully bowPay hommage, gold studs in my garmentHot slugs miss me cause I`m God-sentIf it hit me, it`s God`s wishNo man taketh a life, I`m late in the nightCatch me in the hood shakin the diceContemplatin a heistSome say my team is Satan`s alikeCartel, pop shells till our heart failsBrooknam, a.k.a. RoswellClappin at the spaceshipBitches with fake titsAt nightclubsWe live the life of a true thug[ CHORUS ][ VERSE 3 ]I feel a holy spirit comin on meMy lifestyle: based on a true storyRead the credits: name appears alphabeticOn clear film with no editsMasada bleedin in the hands of medicsPriest, I live it epicSpoke on records, majesticPhysique: I stand six feetObserve my posture, my click`s deepDirector`s edition, just listenThe words breathe on my sheet, I write a novelSpeak on behalf of every slain apostleMy slang`s hostile, say my name as gospelMasada, pop 2 through the confession boothDon`t say nothin, pull my weapon and shootBullets wettin their suitsHerut`s lady put death in my shoesCats die violent in war, silence the .4The fall slow motion, seen the silent applause[ CHORUS ]

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