Stephen King never wrote a scene as horrificAs God as my witnessWhat I write should make new artists suspiciousPardon a niggaAs I say what's in my heartI guess it's just part of me venting'Cause like you I'm from the park and the benchesSo what could I lose but make a conscious decision'Cause I'm known to spazWhen I'm asked my remarks on this businessThis game will do you in regardless of friendshipSo excuse me when you reach for my palmsAnd part of me flinchesIt's not you, dog, it's the criticsThe might catch me in a flick drunk with some strippersAnd my girl see itIt's part of some sick photographer's vengeanceReal Talk!So many new people around meI gotta be sharp with attendanceI mean it's great to MCTo display this art is a privilegeBut now I gotta get down to darken my sentenceI dream of dead babies, streams of bloodRaining fire, brimstone, wipe the Earth clean with floodsI'm drowningMy face next to the meanest thugsI'm telling my testimony to the Supreme aboveAin't I from thy genes?The Priest was a King, belovedThen there appeared a bright being, with white wings of a doveIt's lightning, people screamed and shovedIt's frightening, but I kept writing'Cause what I seen was the judgeAnd what he showed me were grave sitesAnd crucifixes, ruthless bitchesHow they treat you and what they do to your richesFor thirty pieces of silver, niggas'll kill yaI read Judas' scriptures, only warned me to be true to my niggasAnd getting corrupt, like Catholic churchAnd child nudity picturesThat's like the Virgin Mary performing Kama Sutra with HitlerThe proof in my liquor is 180The Grey Goose in my liverBut I still spit truth to the listenersThat's enough son!That's enough!Stop!Nah... hold up...Let me explain a secondI signed my first deal with Geffen recordsI told them crackers "I ain't no muthafuckin' Stepin Fetchit"To my recollection, those bastards were like"Cool, we'll drop you, have our A&R go find the next one"I said "I'll sue! "They said "That's alright, blackieTake us to court!And your lawyer Larry Studnickie? We been breaking him off"I almost felt ruinedAnd in the midst of the confusionThey sent a muthafucking internSaying "we don't understand his musicNow how the fuck we market this?He's talking all that God-body and that prophet shit"I said "Damn! But it's still street!It's real! Niggas can relate to it! "In return they said, "Priest throw that shit in the sewage"Meanwhile, niggas like Nas and Kiss and PunIs telling me I'm niceDown to G Rap to KRS OneAnd GZA told me all this shit would happen, just keep rappin'I said "that's peace, God, but I ain't muthafucking tapping"But still these labels are fucking with meIt's Priest!Volume 1Nigga's shit about to get ugly
