| My past and my present
|
| My name is Priesthood
|
| Is it too televised for you?
|
| Is it too real for you?
|
| Domination, world population
|
| Keep me runnin' while I’m gunnin' at Satan
|
| Please, Lord, let me fly
|
| Give me answers to the when, where, how, and why
|
| To questions we asked, back of my school class
|
| I know I’m not a fool raised by my cool dad
|
| Then he passed, started cuttin', smokin' hash
|
| Damn, I was an ill shorty!
|
| Thinking of the years
|
| That my peers was here before me
|
| Court cases, buying beer by the 40
|
| Getting scary thoughts
|
| When I’m playing with my Legos
|
| Stacking pieces, I build 'em like a cage yo
|
| Is it my cage I’m in?
|
| Is it the rage I’m in?
|
| Why they degrade my skin?
|
| I say my prayer while I’m looking at the guns flare
|
| A victim fall while the innocent young stares
|
| Don’t blame it on the sunshine
|
| Don’t blame it on the moonlight
|
| Don’t blame it on the hood times
|
| Rhymes start to sink in
|
| My own hood may be my cross
|
| Police, my crown of thorns
|
| Same child y’all pounded on
|
| On the roof, ice picks
|
| Someone shoots, this whole world is crazy
|
| As the herb smoke swirl, I’m hazy
|
| Can’t let the devil get the best of me
|
| This ghetto’s not my legacy
|
| My middle finger to the flag with my bandaged ribs
|
| The other click on a mag
|
| You gotta see the PJs for what it is
|
| And life and what we know
|
| The world is what we know
|
| I’m just gonna pour me a glass of |