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[Intro: Killah Priest]
Yeah, uh-huh, back again
The Priesthood, yeah, brought it
We up in here now, it`s time to eat
Gotta look at myself, want ya`ll to turn around
Watch this, yo

[Chorus 4X: sample]
Turn around, every now and then
I get a little bit lonely
You`re never coming back..

[Killah Priest]
Alone and thinkin`, zonin`
Then I pick up my ink pen and hold it
Like the bullet that went in, they blinkin`, I`m frozen
Stuck between time, the pass and the present
From early adolesence, to fiends that`s crashin` and beggin`
A pad is my blessin` with it, I`m addin` my lessons, so vivid
Through life, things I`ve done wrong, and do right
I had a few nights, of comin` in drunk, fightin` with punks
At club, writin` to front, stomp it with gloves
Cats pumpin` they drugs on Ave., I jumped in the cab
Head to the lab, grab my pen and my pad, feel the wind draft
Dump the insensce ash inside the hour glass
Watchin` it slowly slippin` as I drift in the past
Watchin` the secret sands, remind me the extinction of man
If we don`t unite, I`ll think of plans
The king is a hand, the handwriting`s on the wall of the project halls
In graffiti, written like swahili
All harmonic, Priest is like a god when he speaks
Plants his feet on the ground, wore the crown
All of ya`ll turn around, baby

[Chorus 4X w/ ad-libs]

[Killah Priest]
My verse runs deep like smack through a veteran`s vein
See cats on the train beggin` for change
Need medicine for they pain, I`m in heavy rain
Sweat testin` my aim, carve in my bullets with the president`s name
Destined to reign, feel guns bust while cats discuss
About the gats they bust, and loyalty among employees
The more weed, the more they mind`s stay freed
The more the nines get squeezed, the more the crime leads
The more they blind me, push that light far behind me
I seeked ashanti`s and monks in the hills, I dwelled months for real
No deal, but still hold the steel
Sometimes I spaz out, pull my pad out
Then my pad sprouts to a crackhouse, filled with drug dealers
Some thugs, some killers, my pen`s a paintbrush
Colorin` the old school cats with gangstas
For every word that I print on paper
Is like a proverb from a prince in Asia

[Chorus to fade w/ ad-libs]

[Intro: Killah Priest]
Yeah, uh-huh, back again
The Priesthood, yeah, brought it
We up in here now, it`s time to eat
Gotta look at myself, want ya`ll to turn around
Watch this, yo

[Chorus 4X: sample]
Turn around, every now and then
I get a little bit lonely
You`re never coming back..

[Killah Priest]
Alone and thinkin`, zonin`
Then I pick up my ink pen and hold it
Like the bullet that went in, they blinkin`, I`m frozen
Stuck between time, the pass and the present
From early adolesence, to fiends that`s crashin` and beggin`
A pad is my blessin` with it, I`m addin` my lessons, so vivid
Through life, things I`ve done wrong, and do right
I had a few nights, of comin` in drunk, fightin` with punks
At club, writin` to front, stomp it with gloves
Cats pumpin` they drugs on Ave., I jumped in the cab
Head to the lab, grab my pen and my pad, feel the wind draft
Dump the insensce ash inside the hour glass
Watchin` it slowly slippin` as I drift in the past
Watchin` the secret sands, remind me the extinction of man
If we don`t unite, I`ll think of plans
The king is a hand, the handwriting`s on the wall of the project halls
In graffiti, written like swahili
All harmonic, Priest is like a god when he speaks
Plants his feet on the ground, wore the crown
All of ya`ll turn around, baby

[Chorus 4X w/ ad-libs]

[Killah Priest]
My verse runs deep like smack through a veteran`s vein
See cats on the train beggin` for change
Need medicine for they pain, I`m in heavy rain
Sweat testin` my aim, carve in my bullets with the president`s name
Destined to reign, feel guns bust while cats discuss
About the gats they bust, and loyalty among employees
The more weed, the more they mind`s stay freed
The more the nines get squeezed, the more the crime leads
The more they blind me, push that light far behind me
I seeked ashanti`s and monks in the hills, I dwelled months for real
No deal, but still hold the steel
Sometimes I spaz out, pull my pad out
Then my pad sprouts to a crackhouse, filled with drug dealers
Some thugs, some killers, my pen`s a paintbrush
Colorin` the old school cats with gangstas
For every word that I print on paper
Is like a proverb from a prince in Asia

[Chorus to fade w/ ad-libs]

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