Lyrics Behind The Stained Glass - Killah Priest

Behind The Stained Glass

?Behind the Stained Glass?
You see the album cover
Look behind the picture
There?
s something behind the picture
The stained glass
Let?
s go beyond the spectrum of light
To a thought, to a line, to my breath on the mic
That?
s the cost of the rhyme, I start from the left then I write
Holding the pen by its abdomen
Then started imagining myself through galaxies that I haven?
t been
With my index I begin to message my pen?
s breast
Performing poetical intercourse?
til the end get wet
It climax when I rap, ejaculating ink when I think
Masturbating to its brink
Then inside my brain is the Big Bang
This is more than just a sixteen, it?
s a sick dream
Exploding hypernova, so I write it over and over
The righteous soldier with an Israelite culture
I established the tablets of madness with graphics for savage
Leaving fragments of bo?
es, deadly poems, spread havoc
?Behind The Stained Glass?
Oh look?
Behind the Stained Glass?
Behind The Stained Glass
Don?
t even search, look?
Behind the Stained Glass?
The curse will come
As I light up from the inside like an exquisite Asian paper lantern
This is lyrics invading, drawing in the greatest patterns
Started through the thermosphere, burning through the air
Down through the atmosphere, through the mesosphere
Broke through the layer, through the troposphere
Past the stratosphere, I?
m a giant magnet for ideas
And it rotate light-years, passing through the ozone
Squeeze into the crack of dawn
Then a rap is formed inside my brain, then it storms, rains long
?Til it fill up my pages with stained icons
?Til the mic warms, don?
t turn those lights on
Keep them off when I talk
Distant galaxies will rush away from you
Then you sway into a view
Like a thermonuclear flash bulb
Then you see my face splashed with blood
Now when I turn on the lights it looks like a massacre
It?
s all over the grass and my gloves
?Behind the Stained Glass?
Don?
t look?
Behind the Stained Glass?
Don?
t even search?
Behind the Stained Glass
The dark grey tunnels of my conscious is complex
It?
s conscious with grave concepts
In a black cave that echoes songs for the ghetto as I engrave my context
Thoughts begin to compress, so I have to breathe with a calm breath
It?
s like I?
m taking a long rest and it?
s beyond stress
?Cause before I pick up my pen my palm sweat
Everything in the song now connects
So come along on a conquest
My mind is outrageous, paragraphs and phrases
Super compounds, nouns, words is written inside the pages
To me the margin is just holograms
When you write like King Solomon
Everything seen through a scholar lens
Take you to the outer realms
No oxygen, just watched a film
Whether it?
s drawn in Sanskrit or even handwrit?
Or even painted on the canvas, as long as you can understand it
__ places out of tablets, books or handed in a pamphlet
Or information from encyclopaedias
Now we write graffiti?
cause we were pyramid architects
That is some mysterious art I kept
Mega irregular comparatives, superalitives, adjectives, adverbs
Bad nerves, do not disturb once the wrist swerves
It reads this word, Priest, the Da Vinci of this century
?Behind the Stained Glass?
Don?
t look?
Behind the Stained Glass?
Don?
t even search?
Behind the Stained Glass
Don?
t even look?
Behind the Stained Glass
My real attribute can only be heard when a astro shoot
My thought crawls
?Behind the Stained Glass?
Up through a narrow cone that comes out of my dome
Just like a pharaoh sitting on a throne
?Behind the Stained Glass?