Lyrics The Seer, the Poet - Killah Priest

The Seer, the Poet

— You don’t drink, do you?
— No
— Well, that’s what killed my Jack.
I told him it was the devil’s work,
but he wouldn’t listen to me.
And you can see where he is now
Oh, the devil’s all around us, mister, all around us, everywhere we go.
If we don’t fight him, if we don’t stand up to him, we suffer eternal torment
— Yeah, I’m sure you’re right
— I know I’m right, and I’ll tell you how i know.
It was on a Sunday
I was ironing, if you please, and that’s when it came out of a clear blue sky.
Oh, the dear good Lord’s own sweet breath and His voice like an electric
shock- I was revelated!
Oh, praise Him, mister, and praise his good works!
Do you read the Book?
— What book is that?
— Why, the good Book!
As the night falls like black curtains all across diversions
Urban streets, showered by a hundred curses
A man is murdered watching serpents now surface
Lurking through his denim purses
The birdhead, chirpin', I zone-trip through seven universes
My chakras working while addicts purchase from the heroin merchants
Behind my screwed face is a gold Pharaoh’s mask
Within my eye is an hourglass, skin like brass
Standing on unfinished corners with bleekers on us
Lilith watches I watch her too
Through my telescope 'Till this world envelopest
Inhale brimstone smoke
Graphics from my canvas of hand scripts
My ink brush of luck If every sea was ink
If every tree was a pen You could see what I think
Would you do it again?
My divine presence
My throne’s not for threshin' My mind’s the weapon
Its essence is seven
As soon as my poem begins Make your bones cringe
Amazing like the Stonehenge
Amun-Ra.
Priest, the God
Right before I get in my zone
I sit on my throne
I write vivid hieroglyphics on stones
Through mystic microphones
Places where shadows were born
So carol my songs
The Pharaoh has called
So travel, come all
The wings of heaven
Are tied to the wings of the ghettos
Tries to soar
But they’re pulled by the strings of devils
Our claws get netted
Then they pluck us
No justice
Our genetics, esoteric
Great grandmothers suffered
They cuss us, then cuff us
We wasn’t custom
We precious
I pray like Adam the Giant
In an Eden of lions
Flaming bodies
In the horizon
Way past Orion
There’s a city arising
With celestial princes
Prophets and Kings
From off every planet
Forming a solar regime
They say, «Come brother
Join us.»
But my time is not up
So I lay in the cut
My voyage is not for many years
So while I’m still here
I spit that solar-facts rap
That street kingpin
That tall man with green skin
Feel me?
'Till then, and I see wings in my lens
I rep the hood
I love Apple Bottoms
Stress is no good
It leads to that bridge
Over Gehenna
I rather see the earth greener
Disobedience led a curse between us
The mystic physics of Priest pictures
In Kabbalistic Scriptures
Dissect the High Priest Rhymes
The wardrobe of Coogi
The luggage of Louis
I lynched my gold neck, hung my jewelry
Beneath my hair cut, I wear a Kufi
Feel me?