[Killah Priest]
And he who have sin, sin no more
Tired of kicking the door, shootouts,, blood and gang wars
Chainsaws, tied up spouses, cocaine laws
Hawaiian outfits with SKs that bloodstain walls
Til you're losing ounces, niggas see the life the drug game calls
Be crying fountains on the car, saying, Please, she's only four
Pleading the merciless men that murder your kin
Sending you threats over the phone and they'll murder again
Now grieving, making payments of funeral arrangements
Contemplating, federal building put their name in a statement
Poor choices, you take this like the gem from the pearl of oysters
Still wet on my tongue rap, where are you from?
And your boy just see real niggas respected
Deliver this message to the dumb and the deceased
We all from the streets, made they rest in peace
While I wreck this beat with techniques
Resurrect speech, but flows are deep and so
I tell this Ra man, I'm sorry what happened that evening
But it be told, his name came up now we even
And Misty James I wish I could change, but Todd
Shouldn't have did what he did, you can't blame Rob
And Miss Stevens, what can I say? A close call
But it wasn't me you visited at the mall
When they killed Spark that night, my heart went to the right
My chest got tight, that was a hard one to fight
Hood mysteries that no one could figure out
Plain and simple, facts were there
___ packs of beer
Make me run to the roof, let the Mac off in the air
You was always strapped, gave me dap to do up the pairs
Like yeah, I missed those years, I dish out tears
Strange dreams at night make me wish you were here
Tommy you should have watched your back
Instead he let them niggas plot and then form an attack
The shots echo, bounced off the building in the ghetto
Mass genocide, inner-city children ___
And this to John, I did what I did because of revolution
You're damn near sixty, made you lay next to Newton
The dollar bill, In God We Trust
Does God stand for guns or the drugs they gave to us?
[Chorus: Killah Priest]
All the thugs, live what's real
[Killah Priest]
This project living regards revolvers are spitting
When dram is lit, guns will get clipped, the mission
No bottles were ribbing, just howls from henchmen
Hell swallows us, death follows up
Bullet shells, ____ get bucked
Black Melrow models are fucked
Your little girls promised the world but tomorrow turn sluts
The heat of playing basketball or pushing crack in the hall
Or either rap or getting macs out to ball
Now what's that, white supremacists?
No lights life for immigrants, no rights
Life imprisonment, some get life syntheses
Deeper than Dike, wife swagger with businessmen
We fight militant, keepers of words they right in genesis
Black pain is raw like the images
This goes to the judges and the senators
[Chorus]
