He rules in the neighborhood he rules
Huh try on your robe man, yeah it fits it fits me too
I like this «Emperor» huh priesthood
The offering is now brung to 'em
Show us how you do this talent (what the fuck is this)
It’s like this look
Nonchalantly I plant the words in the brain like ganja seeds
Horizontally the way I write Gandhi
Beneath a palm tree’s calm breeze
Like the summer in the late 40s
Before the mob kick in the door
Of the Don squeezing automatic Tommys
Ablaze of glory that’s how he lays
A lamp shade Duke Ellington played
The screen start to fade cut end the story (cut, cut, cut)
Yo the next one opens up soda cups
A bottle of grey goose in a room full of applejacks hats
Cock ace deuce sam remo laced boots tapping the floor
A lit cigar goons got my pops liemmed up with gats to his jaw
He said «where is the child that said to come from the Nile
Now in the PJs» he paused and freebased did a line (snnnniff)
«Not to be sublime but the kid is ahead of his time
He turns Kool Aid into red wine
Besides that he professes
He should be the next king of BK (sniff)
Besides Kane, Big and Jay
GZA was underrated but still
The Words from the Genius was the best stated»
I ain’t scared to say it back in the day we had groups
Like the Dismasters, rest in peace Mike Ski
«Part Time Hustler» ruled to me
Divine Sounds, Disco Ritchie and Shelton D
I take it back what people do for money
Money money money the offering
Pay your tithes and your offerings
This goes out to my niggas in them closed coffins
OGs who was coke snorting
On death row, dead men walking
And them mothers never had abortions
I come to bring y’all ass whippings
Rappers this y’all disaster
As it’s written he is risen with mac slugs
AK shells a mask and gloves
They made their Hell
A basket thug and hollowed be thy tip
Anoint your forehead and empty a clip
For the average y’all spit
And I hold my pen like a syringe
Inject my paper with the thoughts of a gangster
Scene 3, nullets sail threw his Tuxedo
He fall for dead in the corner of the cathedral
Doves flock to the ceiling chirping
The murder of the godfather
It’s just my version a tied turban
Rest on the god’s dome
Science study the structures of my jaw bone
It’s similar to the great pharaohs
But I dealt with the streets and space travel
Big Priest from the ace apple
Pay your tithes and your offerings
This goes out to my niggas in them closed coffins
OGs who was coke snorting
On death row, dead men walking
And them mothers never had abortions
See the offering is pureness straight up hip hop
That’s what I’m giving you know
(Yo hold up man yo Priest what happened to peace?)
Oh; oh yeah peace peace peace peace peace
Words of the don Leo Angel