[Killah Priest]
My rap's a movie, with colorful films of looseleaf
Paper, for every line that I said off the paintbrush
It's gangsta, and it's proper form
Late night, that's when the cops'll swarm
Wait a minute, I'm a studen of the revolution
Til we dead, we keep the feds shooting
Maccabee fams, we clap at the Klan
Gat each hand, pass me that weed, man
So I hallucinate, I see a revolution state
Where we enslave cops and we shoot at snakes
Fuck Bloomberg, he's a two-faced
A old cracker with a toupee, see how the truth taste?
It's Priest, two street, two-heat, by my side
I raise up, clap ya'll, put ya'll in the sky
Make ya'll all memory, mix your actions with the weed
Light it, and smoke it, it's Priest
I croak, and I'm all ready to do it

*talking*

[Hell Razah]
We the Maccabee family, we plee insanity
Not here to sell our soul for no fantasy
Don't need Lucifer sun, to come manage me
Fork tongue swallow the gun, for your vanity
Razah the painter, I stand as the plantiff
Convicted by America, land of the strangers
To the judge, I'm the thug who explaining
The court officer aiming, twelve jury complaining
Meanwhile, my Co-D, the O.G.
We came in and flaming, the claim the land of caning
Fix you face, stop hating, it's Christ vs. Satan
My album was worth waiting
Me and Masada, ride like we Godfathers
Load the four revolvers, for thieves when they come to rob us
Each line sharp as a barber
What's a puzzle, if you can't solve us, nigga?

*talking*

[Killah Priest]
We from God house, eat your heart out, America
Oh, ya'll better be scared of us
We ain't the same niggas wearing cuffs, sons of David
Guns we wave it atcha kid, for the acts that ya'll did
Gats we live by, every word of death prophets
Manage profits, from the projects
It's just the blueprints from my fathers
Yeah, for the panthers, yo, throwing tantrums
Mexican Mafia, we doing it
Throw tantrums.. yo... Bloods and Crips, Vice Lords, the whole nine
Four corner hustlers, we love ya'll, fuck that
Yo, can't fuck with us..