The Saints

[Intro: Killah Priest (Nas)] Uh, yeah, say it (Killah Priest) Nas (The Dirty Harry) The Dirty Harry Yeah (yeah) Uh, my gun is tinglin Uh, spill drinks on me, uh [Verse 1: Killah Priest] The reep of presents, I reach for my weapon, stressing Compulsive disorder, I step closer to the alter Confessions, a preacher touches my dome, I soak in the water My presence is there, but I can't see it quite clear But I can feel it, next to my nine, there's a bottle And there's a spirit, I feel sheer bliss I've been baptivised, but I still feel bad vibes From niggas, used to shoot fair ones, but now we pull guns Quicker, I took a sip from the liquor Took a hit of the L, the mixture, had me feeling sicker Paint a dark picture that flicker, load my clip up with shells The air got thicker Two more shots of Tequila, stare at the mirror The face is too familiar, the reflections of a true killer Whose real, though I'm drunk, I pick up my pump Stand looking like Huey, but slumped It's Nostradamus, Saint Thomas with the Uzi in front My Garden of Eden is apartment where they puff they trees and The serpents alerting through the weak secretions The earth's scent from a furnace, quiet, Priest is teaching Big Apple's a hassle, project tabernacles, telling stories through the urban tattoos Bullet wounds, some serving capsules Thug Vatican, Priest lounging between two Greek statues You try to front, and the heat'll clap you [Chorus: Killah Priest] The Priest, the Nasarite, top 5, dead or alive Crime cardinals, from Allah's school Israelite books, we both crooks True don, let's get it on, word is bond He's God's Son, I'm the dark one... Yo, I'm the Priest, he's the Nasarite, top 5, dead or alive Crime cardinals from Allah's school Israelite books, we both crooks True don, let's get it on, word is bond He's the God Son, but I'm the dark one... [Verse 2: Nas] My pen's a paintbrush, with coloring books of gangsters Ho's who never change it's tampoon, stinking Hot as a bullet that went in Abe Lincoln Your page is the inkaholic, addict for drinking The hundred proof truth, pouring down my platinum ink pen Niggas is slipping, niggas forgetting The child of Medusa's risen, twisted snake heads You should envision, ice grill y'all to stone Hypnotism, born with intuition As an infant to keep me living, my moms fought off bats Giant size, flap your wings, sicks with attack Crying eyes, the next rapper king to react The science God, is to know thyself To civilize those around you'se a slow process I release on my own recognizance My subconscious on a track as bomb as this one Ear's to intertwine with, I kick a verse 'til MCs feel it hurt [Chorus] The Priest, the Nasarite, top 5, dead or alive Crime cardinals, from Allah's school Israelite books, we both crooks True don, let's get it on, word is bond He's God's Son, I'm the dark one... Yo, I'm the Priest, he's the Nasarite, top 5, dead or alive Crime cardinals, from Allah's school Israelite books, we both crooks True don, let's get it on, word is bond He's the God Son, but I'm the dark one...