Priesthood Lyrics
| Song | Priesthood |
| Artist | Killah Priest |
| Album | The Offering |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Esclante, Reed | |
| *horses neighing* | |
| As the final days begin, God sends four terrible hor*********** *horses neighing* | |
| 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. *********** that! | |
| (Set it off.) Yea, yea, ya ***********tted. | |
| Ya in some ***********t now, son. | |
| It's on now, ***********as can suck my ***********. | |
| I'm back! *********** that ***********t! | |
| Ready to eat ***********z up, beat they ass and e'rything, son. | |
| I'ma prove this ***********t, right here. | |
| Me and my ***********. 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, ***********, 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, ***********? Look at ya talk ***********t | |
| 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 ***********t, don't get me started | |
| I slap y'all ***********as like y'all little kids in kindegarten | |
| Squeeze yo' head till yo' kidneys harden | |
| Now watch this, I'ma call my whole *********** squadron | |
| [Movie Sample] | |
| The four hor*********** of the apocalypse are among the bible's | |
| most terrifying figures. | |
| [Killah Priest] | |
| Cuz y'all ***********z is ****** up | |
| and Brooklyn ***********z 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] | |
| ***********z bop yo' heads to this, real ***********t | |
| Call up yo' cliques to this, it's realness | |
| You feel this in yo' streets and village | |
| Spare that new ***********t, 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 ***********t... | |
| [Movie Sample] | |
| The fourth hor*********** 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 | |
| ***********, you think you rhyme sick? I leave you lyin stiff | |
| Pull you behind my horse til I break ya spine, *********** | |
| Stop cryin ***********, before I hit ya wit the Iron Fist | |
| You can't rhyme ***********, the one triple nine's mine *********** | |
| The pain'll make ya voice change octaves | |
| >From low-pitched to high-pitched, every hour we kill a hostage | |
| And punish DJ's for puttin corny stickers on they mixes | |
| Smack the stripper *********** 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 *********** | |
| 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 hor*********** on the back of four quadropeds | |
| Puttin four hoof prints on ya foreheads, ***********as! | |
| *horses neighing* |
| zuo ci : Esclante, Reed | |
| horses neighing | |
| As the final days begin, God sends four terrible hor horses neighing | |
| 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. that! | |
| Set it off. Yea, yea, ya tted. | |
| Ya in some t now, son. | |
| It' s on now, as can suck my . | |
| I' m back! that t! | |
| Ready to eat z up, beat they ass and e' rything, son. | |
| I' ma prove this t, right here. | |
| Me and my . 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, , 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 horsekick horses neighing | |
| What now, ? Look at ya talk t | |
| 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 t, don' t get me started | |
| I slap y' all as like y' all little kids in kindegarten | |
| Squeeze yo' head till yo' kidneys harden | |
| Now watch this, I' ma call my whole squadron | |
| Movie Sample | |
| The four hor of the apocalypse are among the bible' s | |
| most terrifying figures. | |
| Killah Priest | |
| Cuz y' all z is up | |
| and Brooklyn z 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 | |
| z bop yo' heads to this, real t | |
| Call up yo' cliques to this, it' s realness | |
| You feel this in yo' streets and village | |
| Spare that new t, 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 t... | |
| Movie Sample | |
| The fourth hor 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 tugofwar 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 | |
| , you think you rhyme sick? I leave you lyin stiff | |
| Pull you behind my horse til I break ya spine, | |
| Stop cryin , before I hit ya wit the Iron Fist | |
| You can' t rhyme , the one triple nine' s mine | |
| The pain' ll make ya voice change octaves | |
| From lowpitched to highpitched, every hour we kill a hostage | |
| And punish DJ' s for puttin corny stickers on they mixes | |
| Smack the stripper 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 | |
| I' ll eat ya saltfish, if ya suck my sausage | |
| I got an atomic sub, armed wit a subatomic scud | |
| Ready to spill ya crimsoncolored blood | |
| The four hor on the back of four quadropeds | |
| Puttin four hoof prints on ya foreheads, as! | |
| horses neighing |
| zuò cí : Esclante, Reed | |
| horses neighing | |
| As the final days begin, God sends four terrible hor horses neighing | |
| 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. that! | |
| Set it off. Yea, yea, ya tted. | |
| Ya in some t now, son. | |
| It' s on now, as can suck my . | |
| I' m back! that t! | |
| Ready to eat z up, beat they ass and e' rything, son. | |
| I' ma prove this t, right here. | |
| Me and my . 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, , 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 horsekick horses neighing | |
| What now, ? Look at ya talk t | |
| 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 t, don' t get me started | |
| I slap y' all as like y' all little kids in kindegarten | |
| Squeeze yo' head till yo' kidneys harden | |
| Now watch this, I' ma call my whole squadron | |
| Movie Sample | |
| The four hor of the apocalypse are among the bible' s | |
| most terrifying figures. | |
| Killah Priest | |
| Cuz y' all z is up | |
| and Brooklyn z 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 | |
| z bop yo' heads to this, real t | |
| Call up yo' cliques to this, it' s realness | |
| You feel this in yo' streets and village | |
| Spare that new t, 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 t... | |
| Movie Sample | |
| The fourth hor 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 tugofwar 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 | |
| , you think you rhyme sick? I leave you lyin stiff | |
| Pull you behind my horse til I break ya spine, | |
| Stop cryin , before I hit ya wit the Iron Fist | |
| You can' t rhyme , the one triple nine' s mine | |
| The pain' ll make ya voice change octaves | |
| From lowpitched to highpitched, every hour we kill a hostage | |
| And punish DJ' s for puttin corny stickers on they mixes | |
| Smack the stripper 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 | |
| I' ll eat ya saltfish, if ya suck my sausage | |
| I got an atomic sub, armed wit a subatomic scud | |
| Ready to spill ya crimsoncolored blood | |
| The four hor on the back of four quadropeds | |
| Puttin four hoof prints on ya foreheads, as! | |
| horses neighing |
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