Killah Priest — Salute

[Verse 1] Drugs, MAC-10s back then Gangster poster, a wall of graffing, style wars of rapping Fur coats, herb smoke, drop the ashes Play the curb, show the fashion ’88, Scarface tapes All my apes caught a case, fought the jakes Doing quarters in the gates due to slaughtering the snakes The water’s full of hate Microphone life alone to write his own Inside the poem Bible’s known I gather bones of Picasso, broke ‘em up in the bowl Stole the skeleton of Shakespeare and Da Vinci’s skull Placed them in the mix then grinded it to a liquor Drunk it down while spit [?] pictures Listeners, I turn your dome to theaters The realest niggas appeal to killers My brain’s haunted I got a conscious full of convicts Inside my brain cell as well I hold my conference [Hook] Salute, niggas, I got my finger on the trigger This the life of antichrist, ice and dark liquors With no mixtures Knowing soldiers with you when I hold the pistol ’til God blow the whistle, so official Salute, niggas, I got my finger on the trigger This the life of antichrist, ice and dark liquors With no mixtures Know a soldier with you when I hold the pistol ’til God blow the whistle, I’m so official [Verse 2] So salute Pay homage to knowledge, the prophet Priest logic, deep conscious, heat launchers Street rockets be cosmic Seek comets Hit the project, release hostage from beast market Go ahead and chant, ’til you see an avalanche hit the doors of battle rams Say my name across the apple lands The MAC in my hand But lose a firework, write a verse, messiah search We flood the streets while they die of thirst Your OG wanna light his purp, pull on the trees then he pause Shut his eyes, blow the weed from his jaws Opened his eyes then he reads, “The world is yours” Psychic World of Walter Reed in stores Suckers, see you on tour And all you rappers, believe me it’s war I’ve seen the sun at night and owls in the daytime The stars align, God state of mind Say the grace of rhyme, [?] [Hook] Salute, niggas, I got my finger on the trigger This the life of antichrist, ice and dark liquors With no mixtures Knowing soldiers with you when I hold the pistol ’til God blow the whistle, so official Salute, niggas, I got my finger on the trigger This the life of antichrist, ice and dark liquors With no mixtures Know a soldiers with you when I hold the pistol ’til God blow the whistle, I’m so official