Killah Priest - Be Careful lyrics

rate me

Insane, my bad brain's insanity

Damage me, how can this be?

Bronchitis, the itis and sinus

Take out the tongue

Rubber gloves are the nicest

Supplier for the writer

Arthritis bones break easily

Too much toxins, I need antioxidants

I spit Grammys out my oxygen

My only family - the hood doctrine

When I was just an infant

The streets grabbed me reached thru the semen cavities

Took my pacifier out and put the concrete in my teeth

Breast fed me, grey goose, celeb G

Y'all ain't ready; they took me out the crib

With numbers across my bib

Moms lost her wig, when jail is just an auction

Depending on the numbers of ya bid

Niggas running under the bridge

Train station, the A train, triple six

Do you blame Satan, or God?

Would you sleep in ya bed or a morgue?

Be careful who you follow

Be careful on what you swallow

In hell's frail, pass the L

Keep ya eyes on the bottle

Cause if I die, those niggas die

It's all thought out in the third eye

Feel me?

We follow drug dealers as Jesus

Look at the prophet like a Caesar

Dresses miracle, preferable leaders

Or a gun handlers

Number of the Beast is branding us

Mind damage, slumped posture under the cameras

Cracked cardiovascular, Dracula passed the massacre

The passages, aborting reality planes

So foul allow me to explain, young child in the chains

Society now has changed, groupies, kufi's

Gauge and graves, toolies, bad movies get paid

On the roof with the Uzi, popping shit

A mouth with the loose leaf

Empty clips, enemies get hit, fly shit

A gangster glory, bed full of benjamins, having orgies

Sneak boxes off the floor at least four feet

Jury basements, a brewery, cases of champagne

Painting's costly, maidens

Other bosses talking in foreign languages

40 acres testing aiming

Flossing and dressing

Walking with ya boys out ya arraignment

Priest glory, UFO boarding

Able to foresee the Moorish King

Strange dudes talk to angels

Beam up great wings

Brush against the thick walls of the other planets

Writing rhymes, they lighting kinds of men

Species and women, my streets never made me creepy

Goosebumps - only if you front

Street Gods and gangsta devils

The USA ready to nuke 'em

Mantineum, the kingtanium

Priest ready to introduce 'em