On The Way To The Top - Killah Priest, Hell Razah, Shabaam Sahdeeq

Son give it right to papyrus

Niggas put ink on paper (yea)

But Priest is more like putting paint on canvas

Take it for granted niggas, y’all niggas want it?

Real shit?

(yeah)

The planets small like they’re marbles

Seen through Allah goggles

So I played Chinese checkers with them

Across the Solar System wits of Nova

Shows the ultra-prism of cold laws

I write bars amongst the stars

Quasars bright light waves far from y’all average rappers

Ice chain bling King I’m God

Next to names like Nas and Ra or Canibus

Lazarus, you niggas back to real emceeing

No whips are European but the pure meaning

Of Kool G Rapping, my loosely tapping

My pen squirt ink that remind you of the works of Sphinx

Hieroglyphic writers from Cairo-Egyptian's tribal Bible predictions

Drug addiction to thug addition

On holy street versions of murders

Two cathedrals with dons as the icons of all his peoples

Shakespearian my theory is the great words that shake villages

Priest God gift to the Mic

The Dark Israelite, Cosmic Lord of the Project

Apostles, street gospel, hood astronomy

Crack astrology, crime philosophy, like psychology

Project anthropology but gangster prophecy

Seen through telescopes from herb

See land through colts and grams

The dope man aborts of lands on the word

Chill, chill, just chill, chill

Ooohhhh Yeeeaaaa

I’m +On The Way To The Top+

And you can not stop

I’m +On The Way To The Top+

And you can not stop

When you drop the drive and it’s all Hip-Hop

Feeling as though you got

You gotta make it pop

And it’s all Hip Hop

Yea, yea, yea…

Yeah, it’s martial law in my hood

We’re like sheep that surround by wolves

When the sun set the project turn into woods

Segregate instead of separate

How can we elevate when hate got us living in this police state

I see the Pope as a member of the K.K.K

We got enslaved when it’s black solidarity day

While the Eagle of America is hunting for prey

We say, 'Eat them', 'cause our freedom been given away

They say my bars is like a law firm

Y’all niggas burn with short term

They wanna put a curse on my sperm

So when I bust off it turns into some maggots and worms

Too late, how to multiply my spurn is born

In the form of Malcolm X versus Damian Thorn

I’m sworn into this Oak with a crown of thorns

I asked my Lord for forgiveness

Before I jot me a sentence

A young king, they surrounded with princes

From the lineage of God’s image

Co-defendant of my old descendents

This was the birth of a 'Sun of Man'

God’s plan in Madonna’s hands

Got Judas on the witness stand

Trial jury they glance

It’s like Ham up in Haiti and France

Front row at the MGM Grand with coke gram

That’s why my people grab eagles when it comes to they fam'

Yea, yea, yo

Aggressive and progressive, inspired to be the best of at

Anything I touch and I think of I’ll manifest it

When I die, statues will cry blood like stigmata

Holes in my hand and feet die for this Hip Hop shit

Twenty percent style, eighty percent substance, intelligent but gutter

Street music I can run wit them

America, land of opportunities and death

Poverty and wealth, corruption and racism

(__*Speaking Spanish*__) but still I’m a park shooter

Got them fake dudes scattering, the kid is back

Enough flames to put in your hand

See my songs are more healthy 'cause I load them with facts

And my clique never slipping 'cause I load them with gats

Revolutionary minds street player combined

Park bench with a bottle of Don, that’s what I’m on

I don’t wear a head wrap but my mind ain’t trapped

This is thug intelligence, the words are eloquent

But I smack them with the butt of the gun just for the hell of it

I’m like antibiotics to rap, hypnotic in fact

Melodical product of blacks in this nation of traps

I’d rather die like a G then go out like a rat

If the street life you chose you gotta accept that

I’m sinister syllable, serious subliminal

Sick of the ordinary and tired of the regular

Turned off by the strange, face make me throw up

They shaking they Nike Airs every time I show up

I electrify tracks, my rhythms are infinite

Y’all dudes is impotent, can’t stand direct

My lines connect with intellect, man you gotta respect

Go to HMV spend a percent of that cheque

My mind is one of God’s greatest designs

You do yourself a great disservice when sleep on mine

You can’t hustle a hustler

Tangle with a tustler

To bleak you with the muffler

Quiet any loud fucker, swayed beige Chuckers

With the Army fatigues, the one wit the leaves

Like you hunting in the woods in the trees