Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mystic City, artist - Killah Priest. Album song Heavy Mental, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Mystic City |
Theory of the 12 Monkeys, left in this cold war hungry |
We kill over blood money, the cops seem to think it’s funny |
We murder over pennies and crumbs |
Plenty of guns, crammed in the city slums |
The man pity none for this next millennium |
Kids starving when they breath you can see they kidneys and lungs |
They left blind, skinny and dumb |
Sights far from a pretty one, praying to God, when will he come? |
But half of my crew is atheists |
While the other half’s waiting on a spaceship, I can’t take it |
Screaming life is what you make it, so called fake-friends |
They all snakes in the end, trying to hide they face |
Try to blend one mistake, I see them grin |
Try to say we of the same kin, because we have the same skin |
I live amongst the unholy, we all role weed |
Thick as Jamaican rollies until the lords scold me |
And told me, you’ll be my next Moses |
Go sake the hopeless and homeless |
With eviction notice arrive like the infant Joseph |
With a grudge to Caesar like the blood of Jesus |
I told the Judge they don’t love us, we don’t love 'em either |
My sword would drink the blood of an un-believer |
My sword would drink the blood of an un-believer |
My sword would drink the blood of an un-believer |
My sword would drink the blood of an un-believer |
Where do we go from here (where do we go from here) |
After the storm has cleared (after that storm has cleared) |
Where do we go from here (like nights over Tibet) |
After the storm has cleared… |
My home is where the psycho rage |
Spending long nights and cold days |
Inside a bible cage |
Is it the curse of a bible plague? |
Welcome, to the cyber age |
The air’s burning like a microwave |
The holy lands sees miles away |
I pour out some Alizé |
Beneath the skies cause the clouds are gray |
Jackals pile the graves of the older slaves |
Reptiles arise, from out the caves they invade |
The dirt under my nails got a story to tell |
I wrestle with angels like Michael L, spending nights in Jail |
Beneath the Hell’s dungeon, with the drunkards tongue kiss |
We all haunted and unwanted |
Forgotten city where the air stays hot and misty |
I see crack fiends with rotten titties |
Twist the top off a whisky, each block is risky |
That’s why my shots empty, till the cops come and get me |
I stay in green camouflage, I see cameras on Mars |
All ready to start, scanning our cards |
World famine at large, they got us trapped like |
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego |
I’m looking for the city of gold, I pity the soul |
They take humans and start branding them like food cans |
It’s like the six points of the hexagram |
Resembles the sects of man, all my children in Bethlehem |
I dropped the Tec out my hand |
Dropped to the earth caressed the sand |
Yes I understand now |
I heard a voice say, «Come hither» |
I walk while others slither, lead me to my father’s river |
Where do we go from here. |
After the storm has cleared. |
Where do we go from here. |
After the storm has cleared. |
Where do we go, we go. |
After the storm has cleared, the storm has cleared… |
Where do we go, from here, where do we go |
After the storm has cleared. |
the storm has cleared |
Where do we go, from here, from here |
After the storm has cleared. |
Where do we go, away from here |
After the storm has cleared. |