Besedila: Killah Priest. Color Of Murder.

:
[Intro:]
Do you know the color of murder?
Do you understand what the color of murder is?
(You'll be written out the will of Priest)
It's what I write, this is Priesthood
Neo... You know, Angel of...

[Killah Priest:]
Yo, my ink bleeds fatigues on paper
Place it on gangstas, beneath light poles
I write scrolls of hood tales
My tight flow's a blood trails of ink
I dreamt of rhymes and crayons, color to spray on
Brothers, my rap is like drawn book of crooks
To sing along with covers, made from concrete
Open, it in ciphers, I paint flows
As they come off the Prophet tongue
I rock a King's robe, holdin' my papa's gun
My metaphors is hard like the feathers on thorn
Helmet, it's Leo' Di's letter, dawg
Rockin' bluish velvet, this man is no rapper
The pen in his hand is used to cast a spell
Black Israel, my fist hail like the Panther
Laugh at rappers like they stand-up
The man gon' hand touch my gat
And my words are, the colors of murder

[Hook: x2]
He's like Michael Angelo with the flow
Or Leonardo Da Vinci, his pen squeeze like a burner
It could hurt y'all, and these are the colors of murder

[Killah Priest:]
I sat my pages with the poison pen
My choice of gin is anything earlier than 1600's
Hell of a stomach, I take straight shots from the shells of gunman
Invade your block with elephants comin'
Like Hannibal comin' from Carthage
But it's more like the Priest comin' from his projects
Load the cartridge in my marker
And my pen is a scope, check the murder I wrote
The flow gets darker (What's the color dawg?)
Two cups of Dracula's blood
Three teaspoon, a goon, a gat and a couple of thugs
A small funeral room, a fitted cap and a ice mug
The skies color of maroon
Where young brothas doomed
Over crack, his shoulder shrug
The little brotha went too soon
From a hot bullet, from a burner
Wonder if he suffered?, I don't know
But I write the color of murder

[Hook x2]

[Interlude:]
This is it, the colors of murder
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, I laugh at ya rappers man
Yo, y'all niggas gon' make me laugh son
Yo, this is the color of murder now I'm writin'
Check it out, uh, uh, uh - ha-ha-ha-ha

[Killah Priest:]
Fuck y'all rappers, I love to war
What do you think all my armor's for
Take ten paces back, then draw
But the draw dunn revolves with the pen
Colors that blend, the complex to your end
Dress me as your Highness
If you get me mad, throw you in my wine-press of my wrath
Now I'm drunk from the grapes of violence
I sip the colors from the Devil's chalice
Chemicals imbalance, and my brain, migraines
I can't go further, and my words are, the colors of murder

[Outr:]
Dawg, the colors of murder
Get 'em in the righteous circles
Tear these rappers in half
I ripped my book apart
This is it, told you I could write it
The colors of murder
Color this, and color the bullets and color the thugs
Whatchu mean? What is it?, What do you mean?
I just finished writin' these colors of murder
It's gon' be so good, what rhymes with hematopenic
What blends, I need the words, to just match
Gotta attach this to that, sorry
What did you say? I have to finish this
The color of murder
Sincerely yours: Priest, leads of Lards
The Duke of Larks, the Duke of the hood nigga