k**ah Priest - Rise lyrics

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k**ah Priest - Rise lyrics

[Verse 1] My rhyme, pen and king recognition dominion over false kindred's The talk of women, brought from the star system Dynamic emergence, wordsmith within his turban Tats of the Virgin, power of planets emerging Back from hell's furnace, born again, torn from sin Broke the spell out of my shell, call the hermit We're twirling books like Merlin within the firmament The perfect balance, I hold my chalice Accept ya challenge, I won't budge Hardwood thugs with hammers and Timb boots and gloves Woven the greatness, flowing with blood That's just the basics After I spit you'll see the Matrix My heart restored with war, my grape's the realness My wine of pillage, sip between lines made of pillars Under his feet the word "k**ah" So print this out of ya data zone Priest returns home, battlezone n***a! [Verse 2] Surrounded by a sculpture of women Antisocial when I wrote this rhythm The vultures got in them, gave us hope at the ending Game is sour like the Pope of a lemon My hand's a gram; I put dope in each sentence Energize rhyme, electromagnetic, genetics We writing esoteric, y'all could see the signs I did what I could do, from the animal woods environment The hood to an*lyze it, y'all could see the God designing Deep minded, I stay rooted, sage music Plus strokes of touch, your ghost hugs and shows They love it yo; I do it for the souls, c'mon! [Verse 3] Raps raise the blood pressure Customize rhymes to fit ya mind size Difference between suicide notes or love letters The light between my eyes enterprise Rid you of mental waste toxins in ya doctrine This oxygen is space While ya head blows I pop ya face Take loads off ya mind and do lunge A newer army, flood the world like tsunamis The greatest gift, from dark towers, Excalibur He's down, now who's the next challenger? That's when d**h surrounds ya Desert Eagle peck ya by the silencer Indirectly, diary, words are fiery Thru the eyes of Reed Thru a tube there's I.V. creating magic In some minutes or some seconds on the record In the sentence my pen wand shoots stars out of measure P's God, I rhyme, cause pressure Mind's the treasure; they call me water-head Its Priest again y'all Walter's dead Nah, its Walter again y'all, Priest is on his d**h bed Who knows which way it goes, let's call him Priesthood instead

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