Killah Priest - Black Market (feat. Hell Razah & Tragedy Khadafi) текст песни

Текст песни Black Market (feat. Hell Razah & Tragedy Khadafi) - Killah Priest



Yeah, knawhatimean, Killah Priest
I changed my name, man, it's Leo Angel now
Knawhatimean? Yo, this is Black Market
Knawhatimean? Trag', Will Cooper, yankee, knowhatimean, uh
First and foremost, we let our jobs toast, and sing bravo
Drink the red wine, the sands of time, stampeded by a million broncos
Through the congo, beneath the cosmos, Priest the 5th apostle
I'm like Picasso, I paint a hot flow, the canvas is your mind
When you visualize, you can see it like an art show
It's warm like a bullet goin' through the Pope shirt
Sinkin' in the lungs of the quiet Cardinal
I'm like Leonardo Da Vinci, my pen squeeze out sculptures
High, like a ski Alpen, grease with my feet stretched out
On a sheik sofa, turn that beat loud, I'm bout to freestyle, soldiers
My rhyme show the depths, like a rich photographer in Yugoslavia
To Romania, fills whole stadiums, to them Hungarians, that's done carryin'
To Bulgaria, to the Balkan peninsula, the flow turn vocals into pictures
The beauty is like the snow fallin' in the winter
Rhymes, are like icons of heroin adicts
With fiends, with their bare arms, scratchin'
They palms practice, the plan that the white, can't craft to
Turn our people backwards, in black hoods to Spanish Harlem
The plan is Gotham, and I'm Batman, amongst these crack lands
I hold revolvers, listen to the soul of Marvin
To bring back the promise, it's Black Market
Chill, Priest, yo chill
Cuz you got William Cooper in here
You know this Black Market, you got Tragedy Khadafi
You got Razah the Renaissance --
Stroll through the tunnels of death, fighting the devil
Every night go to battle, squeeze that nine milli' metal
Until that beat settles, plus randomly complete me
Cuz they all beneath me, when night falls, we speak in tepee's
My peace pipes are Philly, demons grill me
It takes a proverb and a chronic herb to thrill me
I keep pennin' for a moment, second amendment, I own it
Just give me a minute, I'm zonin', like Pagan prisons, I'm thronin'
Say my name, vision a Roman, the Trojan spittin' on omens
My slogan never have a slow gun, trust no one
But Market fam, you know it's on, when the flag market's land
Stick it in the soil, we only toast with the loyal
Drink up, breadren, get off the grounds, break bread
Uh-huh, yeah, take this jewel
In the hood, guns go off, advise you, to don't show off
You can die in the streets, or the seat of your Porsche
I seen drama back off, when you handle the boss
Burn a cross on the White House porch, with no remorse
Four horses of apocalypse, hidin' politics
Common sense, where the poor's oppress, a prophet is
He maybe live in a project crib, the more hard livin' it is
Mothers be abortionin' kids, birth control
The few will make it, most of them fold
I'mma break it when it's cold, or a tissue to a runny nose
And when we die, is the answer that God knows
Til then, tell the angel of death, he's no threat
Jesus wept, when Lazarus left, he got vexed
He symbolic to that parable, follow the footsteps
Ain't no tellin' what felon could die in the hood next
Yeah baby, Black Market, lift ya glass
Yeah, why some sinners got the hood wroten
I'm outspoken, the general's spittin' minerals
At criminals lotust, allow me to catch your attention
Focus on the next dosage, smokers and dopers
In the hood where it's hopeless, thus he has arrived
The black prince, now, will he survive, yeah, son
I don't know cuz I'm bent, it said his mom was a virgin
And his pops was a carpenter, good with his hands
And nice with the revolvers, and a brown skinned complexion
Wooly hair, man with twelve killers, live niggas
They met up in Times Square, true story, how you know God?
Cuz I was right there, we broke bread
Bliss me three times, I held my head, said my disciples
Will soon have me dead, that's when the D's rushed through
Yo, pardon you, reached under my cougi robe, and grabbed my God-U
They was comin' through like Nazareth Jews, yo, I was through
Here's a toast to Black Market, ya'll
Time to time, things change, but the realer alway remain
The hood, the life, Black Market, we the voice of the people
Live it out, whether right or illegal, feel me?



Авторы: REED WALTER


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