| Renaissance, Priesthood, Bo King, throw ya M’s up
|
| My father houses many mansion, Maccabeez House, walk in
|
| This is hip hop once my lips part
|
| I spit dark words of proverbs
|
| A parables or varibles?, it’s Observed
|
| My heart is gothic when I carve it
|
| My pad is covered with darkness
|
| I start writin' with lightning
|
| My words appear like they comets, astonished
|
| The way arm’s swift, beneath my garment
|
| Holsters under armpits, Priest the promised
|
| Roast those who smoked the bones of 'Muhammad (pbuh)'
|
| Canvas paintings 'The Virgin'
|
| Jewels beneath the turbans of a merchant
|
| I flew for the serpent, push the truth in each person
|
| A hundred doves in the church chirpin'
|
| Flock past the preacher’s sermons
|
| Look again, there’s the Priest emergin'
|
| If a die, the sky will rain drops of frankincense
|
| So embrace the prince
|
| Maccabee Priest, my faculty’s deep
|
| We raise from the dead, get up, then we clap the police
|
| I 'Quantum Leap' through the beats
|
| The rest of the troupe, rose upon the leaf
|
| My pen fondle through sheets
|
| This is street poetry, in the hood Bibles
|
| Ghetto gospels, unholy bullets flyin' in streets — apostles
|
| It’s the +Maccabeez House+
|
| Be careful of the doors you open
|
| 'Cause it might be ya casket closin'
|
| It’s the +Maccabee House+
|
| Be careful of the doors you open
|
| 'Cause it might be ya casket closin'
|
| We got it locked like the Solomon’s key, obviously
|
| The fruit don’t fall, too far from the tree
|
| So my seeds’ll be a Prophet like me
|
| Before they grow into a Maccabee
|
| Surrounded by snakes and Pharisees
|
| Play the leaves at the speed of an owl, wrote novels
|
| And send for the heads of Bush and Colin Powell’s
|
| I rest on 'The Thirteenth Floor' with the broken elevators
|
| My mind be as vivid as John the Revelator
|
| Call me Razah the Renaissance, the Icon Polaroid
|
| Build with the killaz that’s broke, and unemployed
|
| I ain’t tryin' to go feminine to sell like Eminem
|
| I’m 8 Miles ahead of 'em, blowin' the breath at 'em
|
| My weapons by biochemical, I ain’t gimmick-al
|
| You dealin' with the future of the cyber-criminals
|
| 2010, more goons movin' in
|
| Men came from the womb, so we soon die of sin
|
| I’m a room in the room, don’t turn my doorknob
|
| I ain’t St. Valentine, but I’m still a heart throb
|
| It’s the +Renaissance Child+, replace the art they rob
|
| I don’t place it on the walls, now I place it in bars
|
| It’s the +Maccabeez House+
|
| Be careful of the doors you open
|
| 'Cause it might be ya casket closin'
|
| It’s the +Maccabee House+
|
| Be careful of the doors you open
|
| 'Cause it might be ya casket closin'
|
| You know I’m King by blood, got Solomon genes
|
| If you look close, you could see my angel wings
|
| Halo fitted, on me like the Mitchell and Ness
|
| An the power that’s possessed is a Heavenly bless
|
| Call me Landlord, I own a twelve room house
|
| Acres of green pastures with sheep’s and cows
|
| Hebrew thugs, the streets call me Young Jehovah
|
| Send a prayer to those lost souls trapped inside 'em
|
| Wash up in a fountain of youth with no cloth
|
| And we don’t wear, symbols of death, no cross
|
| Jacob son, no kin to Jacob’s slums
|
| It’s the house of Israel, where the neighbors come
|
| Knock at the door, get greeted by the Tribe of Dan
|
| If you steal anythin', we choppin' off ya hands
|
| Respect the Kingdom, this where I rest my head
|
| Crown of David, haircut round and faded
|
| Robe of light, tailor made, go with the Timbs
|
| And my look is so sharp you be callin' me Shim
|
| My first and last name on the deeded bread
|
| Shalom, I the seed of Eden, the mice is dead
|
| It’s the +Maccabeez House+
|
| Be careful of the doors you open
|
| 'Cause it might be ya casket closin'
|
| It’s the +Maccabee House+
|
| Be careful of the doors you open
|
| 'Cause it might be ya casket closin' |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Maccabee House, artist - Hell Razah. Album song Renaissance Child, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп