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| Arşivimizdeki şarkı sözü sayısı 158.000'i geçti! |
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Canibus - Priesthood Şarkı Sözleri
to reek his vengeance on a sinfull word. the first three bring conquest to war and famine. [intro: killah priest] yea, yea, yea, yea. yea, yea. fuck that! (set it off.) yea, yea, ya shitted. ya in some shit now, son. it´s on now, mothafuckas can suck my dick. i´m back! fuck that shit! ready to eat niggaz up, beat they ass and e´rything, son. i´ma prove this shit, right here. me and my nigga. what!? [movie sample] violence and punishment of enemies. [killah priest] i give a fake rapper a heart attack, once i start to rap i´m a vocalist, nigga, i´m supposed to rip last poet´s told me this, hit ya in ya head wit my explosive fist then i finish ya off with my tremendous horse-kick -horses neighing- what now, nigga? look at ya talk shit just can´t do it, cuz you ain´t got no teeth in ya mouth and i know ya just tired of me, beatin ya out ya trained all year, in a karate class and took one second, to put yo´ ass in a body bag >from a shotty blast, i walk up in ya club and ya parties don´t last i like to pop shit, don´t get me started i slap y´all mothafuckas like y´all little kids in kindegarten squeeze yo´ head till yo´ kidneys harden now watch this, i´ma call my whole mothafuckin squadron [movie sample] the four horsemen of the apocalypse are among the bible´s most terrifying figures. [killah priest] cuz y´all niggaz is fucked up and brooklyn niggaz is really ready to get ya i know how to hit ya, and cut ya open but don´t worry, cuz i´ma stitch ya with a rusty screwdriver [chorus x2: killah priest] niggaz bop yo´ heads to this, real shit call up yo´ cliques to this, it´s realness you feel this in yo´ streets and village spare that new shit, priest killed it [canibus] yo, yo, yo yo i´m a macabeast mc and i possess the ability to run at top speed without bendin my knees i destory shit... [movie sample] the fourth horsemen is the most frightening of them all. [canibus] ...wrap my hands around ya neck region then i start squeezin ´til ya stop breathin you weaklins is playin tug-of-war wit ya tongues i knock the teeth out ya gums and suck the breeze out ya lungs hit ya wit a blow your physical frame could never sustain you´ll probably never walk ever again nigga, you think you rhyme sick? i leave you lyin stiff pull you behind my horse til i break ya spine, bitch stop cryin bitch, before i hit ya wit the iron fist you can´t rhyme bitch, the one triple nine´s mine bitch the pain´ll make ya voice change octaves >from low-pitched to high-pitched, every hour we kill a hostage we judge mc´s by they lyrical fitness and punish dj´s for puttin corny stickers on they mixes smack the stripper bitches for askin for our autograph and pictures you´ll be scared to leave the club wit us you stratch my back, i´ll scratch your´s bitch i´ll eat ya salt-fish, if ya suck my sausage i got an atomic sub, armed wit a sub-atomic scud ready to spill ya crimson-colored blood the four horsemen on the back of four quadropeds puttin four hoof prints on ya foreheads, mothafuckas! -horses neighing- |
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