(Hook)
What y'all n***as want? Go get your set
Make y'all pussies run, Load up my Tek
Attack like lions, Go straight at the neck
Hyena n***as down, My paws on they chest
Show you canines before we tear in your flesh
Breathing down your face son, I can taste your d**h
I know you're scared now, n***a, I see the sweat
Razor sharp teeth, come close like Gillette
I return like the Prodigal Son, Y'all can rest
The arguing's done, rappers scared
They marveled I've come
Problem One; I can see why I'm startling some
Because I come in peace but my apostles have guns
Son of Man, in 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's us see what 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 poems
My poetry so vivid it was written in stone
They say Priest is some sort of mystic
He speaks wisdom 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 sh**
I write the scrolls on a hundred skulls
My cunning flow is stunning
It's like you're blunted, 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 Osiris rhyming
My eylids marked around with black chalk
Like Nas on his album cover I Am...
Like Malcolm my brothers, let's take a stand
Teachers, teacher and the angel came forth holding the scroll
Given the offering tell us more he said
I write street archives with deep dark eyes
My meek heart cries
When I see the murders beneath god's skies
I record and lose the disk 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
I'm 'bout to drop something old but heavy, ready?
Before this rap all I knew was wrapping up grams
Only tracks I knew was on the arms of Sam
n***a arm was like a pin cushion
Y'all just starting but I been Brooklyn
Central Booking '91 in the pen with hoodlums
I sit still like I'm Teddy Pendergra**
Which pen should I grab?
My rhymes is like its portal
I can see in the past
Some say I'm immortal dark skin with a staff
(Hook)