Killah Priest — Host

Vanity of vanities saved the preacher Vanity of vanities in all vanity What profit a man of all his labor which he have taken under the sun? One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh But the earth abideth forever The sun also ariseth and the sun goeth down And hastened to his place where he arose The wind goeth toward the south and turneth about unto the north It whirleth about continually And the wind rеturneth again according to his circuits All the rivers run into thе sea yet the sea is not full Until the place form whence the river come [?] they return again All things are full of labor I’m bedeviled My trip to the underworld will have to be rescheduled When I should pray, I squeeze metal I put them in a grave well beneath sea level See inside my mind, I’m unsettled It’s a holy war where good and evil wrestle A killer priest is where nightmare and thriller meets “I’m writing a masterpiece” Along the black hills, Dracula feasts All alone while sitting on his throne, the baphomet seat Last of his blasphemous speech Fire, brimstone, magma, gems unknown Screams, cringing bones, deep beneath hot springs and winds that comb Sharp rocks, these are not wings Psycho in a cyclone Around the neck where their spikes shown Melchizedek with the microphone That infusing to Zeus When I rhyme, lightning’s thrown From astronaut to king I write, my pen is made out of obsidian stone I took it from Pandora’s box with my rings Made from calcite and tourmaline Then I write the horrors I’ve seen Inside my writing book, their lightning pushed I’m from the bloodline since the flood times that tormented my genes ’til I had a talk with [?] Since then, I been irie Taught me we were kings like Selassie and queens like [?] To become one of the masters the more I practice The more the stones turn blue with a white hue like the lapis [?], patchouli, beach beauties, hippies from the ‘60s B-movies Becoming attraction like Shem, Ham and Japheth Shem, Ham and Japheth Host