B.P - Cyanide Poetry lyrics

[Intro: 9th Prince] Yeah, yo, yo, yo [9th Prince] Welcome to concrete jungle Where weak n***as stumble, but the player don't fumble Staten Island n***as like to rumble Up in Keisha's party, from A Tribe Called Quest RZA introduced me as his guest I met Nia Long, kissed her on her hand Then chill, fell back in my B-Boy stance n***as that's artificial, get smacked in the face with pistols I explode like a missiles Racing at the speed of light, it gets critical n***as turning genocidal, God himself makes his arrival With a bulletproof Bible The lost children of Israel, you know about survival Catching bullets with my teeth, walk across mud and with bronze feet The black Iron Sheik, I bring raw heat to the streets Ya'll weak n***as incomplete The 9th Prince, muthaf**ers, ain't nothing sweet [Chorus 2X: 9th Prince] Aiyo, I'm tired of ya'll wack rappers, acting like you gun clappers I'm like Moses, I'm like Jesus I'm like Farrakhan, fighting against Genghis Khan With a sword and shield on my arm Word is bond, word is bond, word is bond Word is bond, it's on [k**ah Priest] Yo 9th, they don't know about war, lyrical combat Our tongues were swords, rhyming warfare, on and off air For the parks, lobbies and stores, all they know about is folklore My lyrical ghost hand will reach out and choke all of ya'll MC's is body, even your man can get broke off Names on murals inside my brain stained walls I reign imperial, rappers circle the drain of hip hop floors If I wasn't taking your heart out, I would somewhat write And try to put bars in clouds My skull holds twenty three brains So a piece of me ask questions, while another piece of me explains Fourteen pieces speak on God plane While the other fourteen leaves MC's flame Red rain, black blood, tracks of mud Leads to the hideout, my dry mouth From all my k**ings, MC villain The superhero, Mr. Evil, bullets through pillows Red feathers stuck in carpets, slain artists Black Market, train the hardest They don't know about the celestial body with seven hearts Each of them different colors Black for rappers I smothered Gold for the raps my tongue throw And rainbows, for all the spit my flame goes Your brain slows, my saliva is lava, my mouth is a volcano One bullet, I aim blow, k**ah Priest, the angel Anglosaxin, when I'm rapping [Chorus 4X]