Wisemen - Iconoclasts (remix) lyrics
rate me[Killah Priest]I spit it, these lyrics are vividTheir pictures on project wallsTwelve feet tell, hell greets y'allFire brimstone, the writer, grim poemsEdgar Allen Poe with the flowGoes with the silencer, upon the cold nozzlesOf the four-four caliber, *shot shot*No more challenger, bullets show like GallagherInk pens in my hand, like a spray paint canThe canvas is your mind, the black MichaelangeloHands are sculpt, the Eiffel tote, the mics I brokeResidue leads to a trail, another Priest taleDeath I brewed, the witch-lord-king, that rip off wingsWhen I spit 16, it gets extreme, explicit sceneNo more dreams, just cold screams happeningRe-occurring rappers wanna perform, they need insurance[Bronze Nazareth]My cyclone poems fix the roof of the SuperdomeYou crash your plane in my building, just tryna get onAnd it's a vein, cold rain, write my words in propaneKeep the heat in store like the stoves of MaytagCarry more blades than grass in your yard, grab your rakeI'm original, man on the take, burn it and shakeRoll them, blow them, the solar fell out the blood bankThe Wu-Fam armory, my beats got bodiesKnow to roll you in the grave, with the tip of a shottyPasadena lobby, bullet holes from robbery, probablyVeins made of cobblestone, bitches go home wobblyCapture life like photographs, double stuff hashPure mid-serious grim, with verbal whiplashFrom the fetus to the oversear, I bleed itNigga, your crime will Crystal Mountain, just to try to go see itMy life is a movie script, John Singleton greet meThe blood flow like magma, harder then traps in EdenSend shockwaves like circles from objects dropped in lakesI spray phrases, til the brain can't operateDiscombobulate, the populate, Texas Chainsaw lock your gripCardinal, Wu symbol conglomerateTeam will rather fall than be spit in the faceJesus asked God when I'm dropping my next tapeNigga, Bronze colored disc, razor blade shape[Phillie]End endurance, niggas is wack when spitting rapsGet back to whatever y'all was doing before thatIt ain't working for you, no one's even heard of youTried to get ya grams up, wound up with your hands upI'm a bona-fide hustler, slash M.C.The first on the stroll, and the last to leaveI ain't rich, so the streets is my blueprintAnd it just so happens, I can translate it in musicRoll with dutches as long as a pool stickAnd make sure everybody down for this movementNiggas is apple pies, soft as cool whipAnd Detroit cats be the last niggas to full with[Kevlaar 7]Throw a rose down inside my grave, massage my dead brainWith oils of the soil, inside the dirt I batheUnclaimed as a slave, with the heart of VirginiaI'm signed for life, years, now it's pitch black, my niggaFearing the legend, the reverend, predicted the cold nightBlack ski mask, yo, I'm the cross in the sightsI climb the hill of the ill with a concrete swordAnd rode my hood, joe, as the hero of the world[Illa Dayz]Spit lessons for the old school niggas and adolescencesFabric, fly material dressing, blessing my bodyAddicts is lively, hot sessions, sweating in secondsTracks is robbery, draining me out from what's inside meMasses of static, me and this mic is like a manicPours this methane, is either small dope or it's magicAttacking my brain from spitting loud since I'm bona-fideI lost a life, crystal my block, I've seen it soponified[Vast Aire]Pass me the dutch, I'll fill it upI wrote this rhyme in the corner, like I was a dunceIf I, told ya twice, I told ya onceThat's word to the Trina' man, that sold you frontsYou be number nine, I did not stutterThe sun is my dad, the moon is my motherLook dude, there is no otherLike the Three Wisemen, that came from PersiaTo bless Je-sus, peace to Baby JesusI'm becoming the Buddha, this is my thesisI am the chosen; I've walked on water that wasn't frozenAnd you can talk shit, but look at your lip, now it's bustedSorta like burgundy, bubbling custardI don't wanna discuss it...I'm on another level, come on, man, look at my mustardThat's Grey Poupon, what planet you on?You wanna take my oil, I'll show you my rocketYou wanna take my chain, I'll break ya eye socketKamikaze, you can't stop thisDivine wind, I'm climbingTo reach, higher states, to drowningSitting on the same corner, frowningThis is L.X.G., microphone clowning[Outro: Killah Priest (Salute)]Yeah, what up, Michael VangeloMy nigga Vast Aire., Cannibal Ox, The Wisemen (We here)(Killah Priest), Kings Row Music, (K7, the bull PhillieIlla dayz, Bronze Naz, Salute the muthafucking KidI told y'all niggas, Wisemen, we here, Kings Row, nigga)Yeah
