beauty freestyle - killah priest lyrics
[chorus]
if there’s a cure for this
i don’t want it, i don’t want it
and if there’s a cure for this
i don’t need it, i don’t need it
[verse]
navigate with your mind with the mental emot’
let my words marinate while you pull off some smoke
my life story had optional screams
browse through the street menu with a pencil, see me dressed as a king
many crucifixes dead from shooters and b*tches
all resurrect to the worlds that come from music conflictions
and realest words roll off my tongue and buddha just listens
how are kings fathom doing double albums
took him out of the solemn gave him a robe and crowned him
now the angels are balanced, no longer surround him
get the holy water to douse him
the streets said he was dead but to scared to pr*nounce him
top of the mountain, they unchain the falcon
my pen is adored like king in camouflage
spree bobbing with bad seeds of milton bradley catalogue
filled with gangster with gangster with big toys
and big trucks pulling up in the mystery of babylon
thug nebuchadnezzar never say never
die a thousand times a day, the devil wears leather
unkind friendships, together we pray
ties were severed, do it like it was yesterday
n*ggas was battery operated, sadly was manipulated
hoods are over populated, guns are nickel plated
n*ggas flows is everywhere, i’m getting situated
many angels around the globe but god just picked his favorite
i throw bars in the air, but y’all lack reception
who gave y’all bad direction
i ask this question, “you mad i’m progressing?”
back with stealing the flow, composing our obsession
n*ggas lay on their confit to the jesus coming
i can smell the hate, it feeds my stomach
i can read you young’uns, seeds of destruction
feed off my grapes of knowledge and receive instruction
n*ggas love the cushion of brooklyn
love to feed off the words from muslims
observe, we on the curb, disturb, i went through tragedies
i’m intelligent hoodlum
could tell if he shook one, intelligence book him
my sh*t been rohypnol since writing on walls
now when i rhyme it still seems like a draw
but these coloring pads are brothers with masks that blast blood on the glass
or rich b*tch smothered in glass
apple ass, ch*nky eye, thick lips, private jet
goons on the island guarding the fort sec long clips
it’s like a p*rno fl!ck ’til i take you beyond the eclipse
show ’em god dimensions, where we really from?
planets that you never thought really exist
a desert ship sailing beyond the compelling ’til my record skip
’til the record skip
skip skip
we teach the culture, black gangster noah
not a destroyer, but a builder and grower
hold up, slow the flow up, look over your shoulder, soldier
it’s the new jehovah, may my mic toast ya
and we feast in the splendor, the water, food for thought
remove the salt, the high blood pressure
hot flow for the ketchup, your ears is the fork
judge with the mic, unruly will perish
indestructible light of beauty i inherit
my flows a natural pain k!ller for chemical n*ggas
invade your block system, shock wisdom
a million times a second i have to draw
because the addicts are having withdrawals
the cement breathe, the streets nods to the light’s snore
over armies, we the streets of war
the bowls of the ghetto is nauseated
blast the mac*10 aspirin suppressing the pain
that’s what i call gangster
[chorus]
if there’s a cure for this
i don’t want it, i don’t want it
and if there’s a cure for this
i don’t need it, i don’t need it…
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