k**ah Priest - Maccabee Ridaz lyrics

[Intro: k**ah Priest] Yeah, k**ah Priest, Timbo King Maccabeez, n***a, whatever we do Heaven Razah, where you at? We all together, you know what time it is This is it... [k**ah Priest] Fall back and an*lyze, a man rarely seen Before the cameras eyes, two cannons by his side Heart's so real, that he can not die God's my shield, I'm ready to ride When I was young I'm into breaks by dope phenoms Now I'mma stare up to space with guns in my palms Light storms, the cloud forms, the night is born Draw swords, I'm ready for war I'm lords over ya'll laws, ya'll rappers, ya'll used to be hot But now ya'll make me bored, now it's back to board Back to the core, back to the backsores, putting in work Back to the block, putting ya'll in the dirt Bullets insert, lead that comes out, you n***as'll squirt Lead all over the turf, limbs'll hurt Sanity is the curse, Priesthood, n***a Hold guns like Clint Eastwood, plan to eat good, n***a [Chorus: k**ah Priest] Yeah.. the Maccabee Ridaz Maccabee Ridaz Yo, it's the Maccabee Ridaz It's the Maccabee Ridaz [k**ah Priest] I'm a monster, ready to conquer Hit ya'll muthaf**as with the power of a Tonka Truck, I don't give a f**, guns'll buck n***as'll duck, shots start to roll Under the f**ing cops... yeah... toll Tell the brothers, straight off the head... Straight off the lead... from guns to automatic And it's all the static, comical army grab it Yeah, ya'll n***as is maggots, unload the ratchet Gats spits, n***as placed in caskets Blow muthaf**ing paper, yo straight off the head, it's my nature I put it down, yeah, yeah, Timbo, you gon' paint the ground f** that... guns pat, Maccabeez muthaf**a, one more time [Chorus w/ ad-libs] [Timbo King] Let's ride on 'em, let's ride on 'em f** them n***as, f** them n***as Them n***as busboys, always catching the bus, boy The game's foul, who can you trust, boy? Bo, shepherd king, repping Brook, Crook, go 'head and move, rook Smoking tobacco, my n***as blacko Slap n***as, mean what I say Say what I mean, gangsta lean, Tim Brown slaughterhouse I want big money, ready to die, big money Keep food up in the fridge, money Revolutionary gun talk... ride on 'em, ride on 'em