k**ah Priest - Get Lifted lyrics

[k**ah Priest] Razah what up? My pad's an art gallery of harsh reality Pictures of n***as within the scriptures with the same style as me Christ had his disciples, Priest has his posse But did they swing box cutters in gutters and blow trees in lobby's? Nah, theres for Bethlehem puff the wild irish grand Till he told him that his hours at hand f** that my last suppers at Benny Hanna's A strip club wit sick thugs throwin plenty dollars Ice chain the Dice game wit the Semi Revolver My pa**ion is of the hood life, gangsters and k**ers n***as represent the struggle sayin Priest we feel ya' These the Paintings of a Saints wings, the Lucifer horns Shootouts and stabbings the youth is all gone ( feel me ) [Chorus 2X: China Black] We get sh** lifted n***as Roll a spliff take a sip a the liquor Spark the coke now I'm definately wit'cha We get sh** lifted n***a [Shabaam Sahdeeq] I move through the smog of the city life Blend with the grimy gritty type we make moves at night Got a kite from my scrap he about to touch down We spent a yard up north and walk the block in the town Travel at the speed a sound A moving target's hard to hit, thats why I keep it moving kid Paint a picture without a brush I put my life on sketch Every line is pain and my love is intricate Drink liquor till the bottle hollow, Thankful to see tomorrow Thankful to see my man we gotta continue the plans Grands upon grands is what we trying to stack And there ain't no turning back unless the guns pointed at me Dog I caught a hole in my back I guess thats payback for all the dirt I did in the past I seen life pa** before my eyes in a flash I been caged up wishing I could be on the ave I been in a dorm , wishing I could be in the lab My loyalty is priceless, my heart is genuine You gain a driving force if you got me as a friend I blow ganja smoke in the air for all my dead kin And I vow till my boy pow wow will win [Chorus 2X] [Tru-Mac] Tru sippin Liquor again wit the blicker again Fresh out the dugout watch the picture begin On the mound striking em out, snipen em out All the new birds you heard how I'm pipen em out? Born a great , Tru-Mac will storm ya state I ain't sprung like T-Pain when I fornicate I'm psycho call me Norman Bates Try to Ice Grill me, I'ma fit ya George Foreman plate Quiet down or I"ll cause a Riot now Time to set up shop on the block and tie it down Stacks is flippin, Warning my ratchet spittin On attack for all of you cats thats snitchin My logic's focused who gossip hopeless Ima stomp on cats , backs like ugh, project roaches Running game like Vince Young through the goaline k**in kids like them dudes in that coal mine