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Killah Priest

When I`m Writing/Excalibur 12"

  hip-hop  wu-tang  rap  underground hip-hop  east coast rap
489 3 часа назад

Текст песни Killah Priest - When I`m Writing/Excalibur 12"

Killah Priest - When I`m Writing/Excalibur 12" слова песни

[Intro : Killah Priest]I just zone out When I`m WritingYo[Killah Priest]The weed is litit`s given like an Indian giftPassed around in a cipher`til the bitches need pullin` tighterPut out the fireBlow out clouds of stressNow`s the testwho`s the first to talk crazy?You cough, maybe the weed is still in your lungsYou beat ya chest `til that feelin` will comeYou high, viewin` a cipher behind your own eyesSayin` stupid shit, but to others you wiseMe, on the other hand I zoneFind a little spot to myself`til I feel I`m aloneTalk to angels with black wings, silver halosBuild with Gabriel the MessengerI`m Hugh Hefner, with long robesin a porn show, women with pretty toesthe dizziest ho`sThen I turn romantic, write in sanscriptI put on my vision that I see inside my penBlack-out is When I`m Writing[Hook x2 : Killah Priest]When I`m WritingFlows go through me right into my penWhen I`m WritingIt`s the artist withinWhen I`m WritingI`m in tune with the Solomon booksWhen I`m WritingIt`s more than just a song and a hook[Killah Priest]My pen`s a crayonwith coloring books, displayin` chaosThe black seyance, with the ink pores radaredAge quasars explorin` where the mind caves areA riches being dug from a keys graveyardIt`s the inscription written on Egyptian clay jarI write rhymes like I`m doing timeListen, when I hit the pen I start doing the sickestI got the flow locked behind each barAnd if I get too wildYou can throw me in the box of ya car, it`s not that farMy pen`s an airbrush, thrown over ya favorite sweaterMy notebook`s leather, I write with a featherMy pages look like a Renaissance paintingVisions of St. John`s conquerin` SatanAll made from my imaginationIt`s Priest, Lord, the Bishop of VikingsWhen I`m Writing[Hook x2][Killah Priest]The way that I write, it`s like a paintingI put on apronsand brush my ink pen across the paletteStare at the projects`til I see somethin`, then write about itMy pad`s a canvas, filled with anthemsAnd words from the black panthersto crack scramblers, to crack gamblersto gat handlers, to cats in handcuffsDoin` lifeI lock myself in a room and I writeRhymes I could do a life-timeWhen everything`s relaxedand I`m in my right mindI sit still for months like a monk`til Buddha bless me and grant mewith the wishes that I wantI want a thesaurus with clairvoyantsI rhyme for the enjoyment, my mind voyagesEver since the day that man evolvedScrapin` white chalk on candy wallsFrom the Stone Age of neanderthalsI`ve been writing[Hook x2]

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