Lyrics Ningishzidda - Killah Priest

Ningishzidda

The god of the glorious sons, the terrible ones
Grant me your genetic powers, the guardians come
Ishtar, Buddha, rulers
The armies I’m from is super
My pen touch the pad, it turns nuclear
My words become fewer
I’m now in the future as I’m channeling
The Tetragrammaton start unraveling
I stop Thor at the door, no hammers in
Y’all started fights, I started wars, Samson men
I emerge from out of bitter herbs
When I was born, I was given myrrh
And after I di, I’ll be the living word
Chapters and scribs, hymns and verbs
I’m the aloe vera of the Sahara
Follow the cherubs, I’m be swallowed by the terror
Mulattos ride through Morocco with Arabs
Blessing those who perished, whose faces were reddish
Where spacemen wear goggles from the cosmo era
We come for the natives
Like those from Toronto in ponchos, the people Monsanto hated
And those from the slave-ships
And everyone else who they known or related
Bone to my bone, flesh in my flesh, left alone there naked
Just follow my tone on the microphone as we spin like a record
The pain I sketch on paper
Make echinacea stretch around the gangsta
As flower petals fall over the devil
I’ll have ‘em grabbing God’s heel as I put a crown on the savior
And the seraphim are covered with Mexican
That’s a rare herb used by Central and South Americans
Used during temple service
Ritual incense-burning
Offerings for the deceased
Thus say of the Lord God, Lord Sun, the album from Killah Priest
In the abode of the righteous and balanced universe
I spew this verse 'til they build my tomb in the dirt
As they’re mummified and our face move with a smirk
‘cause I know I’ve written for those who’ve been hurt, with balance and
brilliance
Bestowing the governorship for all, I put my blood in this script
My life and true testament at my descent now into the seats of worship
The of darkness and many titles of nobility to the unknown Killa Bee
Wisdom of the wing writer
The pen in my palm is a wand in a ring of fire
I wave it, my pages turn to doves and blue stripes
I take each one, place ‘em on the stand of my mic
Some on the stand of my light
It’s magic, understand how I write
It’s not rapping, my face and my hands become bright
A long pause as my jaws become tight
It’s all done
Lord Sun