[Intro: Killah Priest]
Yeah, check me out
Tryin to get out (Word, I'm just maintainin kid)
It's Killah Priest, title it is
(Just tryin to get my thoughts together)
(Know what I'm sayin? understand)
It goes..

[Chorus x2: Killah Priest]
Life is a gamble and you're forever learnin
It's like that as the world keeps turnin

[Killah Priest]
In my location is where they run they operation
You either bucked {*gunshot*} or gettin stuck by the train station
Word is bond it be on after dawn
They hit you up then watch you drop and then they gone
They 9mm's make bitches scream high-pitch like a tweater
but shorty is a strong believer when he hold his heater
I use an ounce of my mind to make rhymes and a half of brain to cause rain
cuz life is like a game with no instructions
Streets they be tustlin, they have a nigga bustin {*gunshot*}
The adolescence carry weapons in they section
A wrong direction, when they all pack protection
Forgotten knowledge, is all symbolic and hedonistic
They need statistics, for cops to search
They pop you first and dig your pockets later
and maybe catch you for your pager (what's up? what's up?)
or slice your throat with the razor..
This kid told me once, that it was all about a blunt
I had a son your age, that ended up on front page
Rockin gold chains and gold fronts
The streets got me restless, I wanna check a Lexus
It's either that, sell crack or snatch a necklace
It burns like the furnace of afflication
A daily crusifiction and even Christians wind up missin
and all the good ones, even hoodlums shootin Muslims in their bosom
So what the fuck do you want son?
I drink forties with my shorties tellin street stories
but is the street really for me?
My peeps don't study mathematics
It's all about Cash Rule and automatics
Put ya glass in and sort the static
Shit is vicious as all the bitches play you for your riches
and blow you kisses and they show you stitches
It's like the snitches and the witches of the Bed-Stuy
and all the dead rise, rise, rise..

[Chorus x4]

[Killah Priest]
This is a land of combat where Uncle Tom's get clapped
You better watch your back and stay armed and strapped
because thugs and drug dealers, they give ya slugs and squealers
And hug the killers and drink mugs of Miller's
Strange creatures will play their part in the midnight features
You wiped the sneakers and he checked his beeper {*beeps*}
He said, "Life and difficult times and crimes
We suffer dearly and rarely live refined
The truth is crucified, the grave is ya bed
And those who brought knowledge are mentally dead"
You're valleys are polluted, you're foul and diluted
The ciphers on trudent, we're trialed and executed
So this be the exodus out of flesh and lust
The common minded, I'm bombin' 'em all and then blinded
Blasphemers, adulterers and drug schemers
I run through the gender 'cause most of us are sinners
I read revelations, sub-meditatin
'cause this education is the proper medication
for those who lost hope 'cause the Devil tore his rope
They be false popes draggin cross on the boat
I read Gods words and the book of proverbs
Maybe look and observe 'cause you worked hard to serve
We became poor and disobedient
Now we broke the laws of the proper ingredient

[Chorus x8 w/ variations to fade]

[Outro: man]
Word..
These the last days..
You gotta be wise as a serpent and harmless as a dove
Use those Silent Weapons of War
(They ain't learnin shit kid)
Knowledge and wisdom shouldn't be taken as any other
(by the Twelve Jewelz)
Alarms