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KILLAH PRIEST lyrics : "Melodic"

[Talking:]
Yo, yo, what up, son? Yeah
Get your weed and your Heineken

It's melodic, Yo, yo, who got a stogie on them?
Priest... I'm dropping the Killah
Beloved the beloved beloved brothers come on


When doves cry doobie fly Cooley High school kids
Watching White Shadow my favorite character was Coolidge

Movie slides the shots and the car chase
My favorite was Al Pacino in Scarface
Cool like DeNiro in Casino, old Mob tapes

It made my heart break when Fredo ratted on his brother Michael
Godfather 2, we replayed the Don's drama in school
Article 2, my 16's are like

Billion-dollar budget movie scene on big screens
Al Green is doing my themes
From off the Greatest Hits which is my favorite disc

Play it, it skips, the screens burns from a tiny brown hole
In the center the bulbs pop it's the picture
I learned to handle bars on the mic

Before I handled bars on the bike, I hold it tight
Drug dealers homage empty promises acknowledge this
Broken dreams smoking fiends lying on the roof

Some are nodding with the belts tied around they arms
Out cold, pipes still in they palms
A household about five at night four are gone

To roam the streets around Section 8
Here's my Offering pass around collection plates


[Chorus:]
Dreamers dream, melodic flow governed by Kings
Wings of a phoenix bird take up my words

And peck 'em down to a compound, observe
Refers his master


Stainless glass windows of ancient black Negroes on my ca!@&(t
My visitors, thug ^!$$%s hopping out of spaceships
Like "What up Priest? We just swerved across your spectrum"

Word, had Armani spacesuits, holding two bad alien birds
Saying "Neek neek neek" translated means "where's the herb? "
He $#&@ed the green (*##$, I took the blue one

Up in some alien #~!!@
"^!$$%, save the crew some! "
Yells one of my dogs

Just came home from Mars
He was up in this bar where this lizard (*##$ was stripping
Bugging, like we acid tripping

Addicts in my vision
The scene turns like it's Claudine
James Earl Jones, hot combs over stoves

Dax hair grease, a rare piece of footage, hood clips
Narrated and composed by the Priest
Curtains close on the streets

The score's done by the poor but the pure dreamers

[Chorus]


[Hell Razah:]
Handwriting's on the project wall

Spray painted in the modern day Cuneiform
On black uniforms
You might meet a crackhead that made it, to translate it

He can tell you who's $#&@in' with broads, and who related
But you gotta know the ghetto password, so he could say it
In the Hood we turn throwing up signs into a language

Rather blue steel or stainless guns, we gonna buy 'em
Riots, we gonna start 'em, $#&@ it, they got problems
Pour me some more crushed grapes in my cup, it's envy and lust

It's automatic semis we clutch, to David Ruff
We carve knives out of elephant tusks
Eleven of us, then build about the angels and the God we trust


[Chorus]

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