Shabazz The Disciple - Black Angels (Dearly Beloved) lyrics

(Intro) Priest Streets is back, yeah, yeah Yeah, it's that doulja, one life n***a Live for this one, yeah, we gon' do this Forever, Maccabeez, Supreme, yo [k**ah Priest] Life and d**h is like a carnival to cemeteries Ain't nobody left that's honorable, they all been buried The chronicles of the projects, the Gods wore heavy Chains, his name reign over ghetto terrains The dope fiends worship, he respected by k**ah The realest over everyone, kept reflectable trigger n***as laugh till they cry fallin' from shots Hollerin' crackheads, someone's callin' the cops Hold up, let me let y'all n***as know one thing I'm Ghetto Jezuz of the hood, be where guns ring When I dream, I see war planes and submachines Judges poke the pitchfork at thugs wit wings (Hook) Razah, Timbo King 2x Look deep into my eyes, can you see my soul? Man fell from heaven to this one hell hole From this hell, we excel and we rise again Look deep into my eyes again, Black Angels [Hell Razah] Dear Lord come save us sinners Slaves that was made to k** us Young lions and gorillas in this jungle of dealers In this hell where you buy you sell You sell your buyers We Jeremiah prophecy - Maccabee Riders Heavenly riders, Satan wants the spirit inside us Waitin' to try us, innocent faces and liars Judas' seed, s**, d**h, music and weed The beauty of Eve, it's all above, soon to be grieved Capture souls get left wit their casket closed While the poor in the streets yellin' "Free Daddy Rose" Project shootouts, dice game bank root out Some pronounced dead befo they move out What you about, shootin' or tellin'? It's heaven for a felon, age 11 playin' wit weapons Raised off old 70's records by coke Chemist's use credit, that dope epidemic The more money that's not made; the more blood to shed it They buy weight and sell it, straight cash, no credit Stolen dirt-bikes on the turnpipe, stolen merchandise Dropped off, knocked off fast for higher price Last night made a k**in' Heard shots up in my building In the midst f**in' this chick Son I was filmin', thought I was filmin' (Hook) Razah 2x [Shabazz the Disciple] Ayo I been thru a lot, the game tortured me These flames be scorchin' me Allah's hands be stretchin' forth for me Sometimes I feel heavenly Father be divorcin' me My life is like a Biblical novel, y'all ain't a fore for me The perils of my penance almost got me a life sentence Fatal syringe piercin' the veins of sinners Playin' roulette in this game wit Ds and barrel spinners Poison snow flake on a scale wit 'Five Percenters' Stripped of our halo and wings, evil got in us Mad guns and heavy weight, money machine to print us I ran the streets wit them k**ers and squealer gators Guerrillas dodgin' NARC's, seagulls, sharks and counterfeiters Talk out the side of ya mouth The slugs will fly right out the side of ya mouth And everybody's gettin' tired of ya somehow The gats snuff 'em, we cuff 'em and duck tape 'em If y'all ain't meet our ransom demands then we rape 'em We neva gave flyin' f**, whether you sold or snort The Judge told n***as don't eva show their face in this court You come up short or you bounce me the ball You get hit up in broad daylight in front of ya moms That real gangsta sh**, neva showin' faces in flicks Pop witnesses to get them cases dismissed Go to ya wake wit a gun and flowers Kiss ya moms and sign ya obituary if you hit one of ours Call me an animal, man, the streets raised me Somebody must of prayed for me cuz God saved me