Gotta Eat Lyrics - Singles - Killah Priest

Masada 

2000 

[ verse 1 ] 

My .44 calicol will silence y'all souls, masada 

The ghost of the most prolific writer 

Upon my death bed in roast in fire 

See my most desires 

Smell the smoke from my flesh as my ghost rise up 

Hear the voices of 100 choirs 

And angels looking down at my body attached to wires 

Priest kissed by the widow spider that spit saliva 

I write for lifers and boxers at rikers 

I write pain 

Blue ink replaced the blood in my veins 

Thug in this game, flooded up rings 

Cluttered up change, quick to pop a slug in your brain 

If you a killer, then slugs we exchange 

We like the mobsters, bullet shells and choppers 

Cop cars and road blockers, they tryin to knock us 

Catch us duck behind the bitches, d's tryin to pop us 

On cbs news while the world watch us 

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[ chorus ] 

I do this shit for my thugs 

I do this shit for the chicks at the club 

I do this shit for the niggas that I love 

I do this shit for the streets, cause a nigga gotta eat, luv (2x) 

[ verse 2 ] 

I write theories that's motion pictures, y'all hear me? 

I spit it clearly to roast y'all niggas, feel me? 

Gangster, life of a don my icon 

Sling on my right arm, rubber grip tight in my left arm 

Body suited with teflon, it's brooknam 

Raise a eyebrow at the child, respectfully bow 

Pay hommage, gold studs in my garment 

Hot slugs miss me cause I'm god-sent 

If it hit me, it's god's wish 

No man taketh a life, I'm late in the night 

Catch me in the hood shakin the dice 

Contemplatin a heist 

Some say my team is satan's alike 

Cartel, pop shells till our heart fails 

Brooknam, a.k.a. roswell 

Clappin at the spaceship 

Bitches with fake tits 

At nightclubs 

We live the life of a true thug 

Photos 

[ chorus ] 

[ verse 3 ] 

I feel a holy spirit comin on me 

My lifestyle: based on a true story 

Read the credits: name appears alphabetic 

On clear film with no edits 

Masada bleedin in the hands of medics 

Priest, I live it epic 

Spoke on records, majestic 

Physique: I stand six feet 

Observe my posture, my click's deep 

Director's edition, just listen 

The words breathe on my sheet, I write a novel 

Speak on behalf of every slain apostle 

My slang's hostile, say my name as gospel 

Masada, pop 2 through the confession booth 

Don't say nothin, pull my weapon and shoot 

Bullets wettin their suits 

Herut's lady put death in my shoes 

Cats die violent in war, silence the .4 

The fall slow motion, seen the silent applause 

[ chorus ]