[Killah Priest] Tear sprinklers, closed coffins and liquor bottles Cups of sorrows, brush off tomorrow Lost love, no luck, Greyhound bus Blow gray smoke rose over the city potholes Obituary to those we missed we buried Or like gospel scriptures of each niggas But there weren't saints The bullet ink helps us paints those pictures Mornin' grandmother Brothers holdin' their mothers and faintin' sisters The streets gather wit people Than as time goes, small groups fade off A day walk thru the cemetery, I could hear the grave talk Couldn't cheat death, tho twice he bet Not Eve to the trees, he kept switchin' the debt Left-handed, under the dirt soon become under a college campus Later a place of research and vistin' planets Will we eva see this gangster again? No more Timbs, no more 20 inch rims All the jewelry don't matter, all his money were scattered Far as the crumbs his wife could gather No guns, no beef, just eternal sleep And all you had you couldn't keep The hood creeps about a week then soon start to forget Your memory turns to a history The nigga you use to had beef wit is now livin' in your project And that's hell
(Hook) No time for talkin' backwards I'ma blow this automatic Your whole future's goin' down Goin' down-down-down
[Killah Priest] What crosses the mind right before you're flatlined Do you see bright? Do you see night? Do you see Christ? I wonder what heaven is like? Paramedics bring life, to we go where each of us came from One comes cryin', one goes silent Which is worst? I don't know, it makes my brain numb When brothers squeeze triggers to cease niggas Do they think of our future before they shoot ya? What was it a Pale Horse thoughts of William Cooper Nailed to a cross, all leads variety of anxieties within my medulla Kennedy was shot in the head while ridin' the Lincoln I wonder what Lee Harvey Oswald was thinkin' When he tried to escape and hide in the theatre Did he see Mr. John Wilkes Booth in the mirror? For street cred niggas take heads For a block they don't even own The red, blue and gold is in the colors of the rainbow Heads hang low, when it's a four year old that had to go No halo, no big bright wings At the end the dust conquers all of us And that's the true destiny of a king
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[Killah Priest] Tear sprinklers, closed coffins and liquor bottles Cups of sorrows, brush off tomorrow Lost love, no luck, Greyhound bus Blow gray smoke rose over the city potholes Obituary to those we missed we buried Or like gospel scriptures of each niggas But there weren't saints The bullet ink helps us paints those pictures Mornin' grandmother Brothers holdin' their mothers and faintin' sisters The streets gather wit people Than as time goes, small groups fade off A day walk thru the cemetery, I could hear the grave talk Couldn't cheat death, tho twice he bet Not Eve to the trees, he kept switchin' the debt Left-handed, under the dirt soon become under a college campus Later a place of research and vistin' planets Will we eva see this gangster again? No more Timbs, no more 20 inch rims All the jewelry don't matter, all his money were scattered Far as the crumbs his wife could gather No guns, no beef, just eternal sleep And all you had you couldn't keep The hood creeps about a week then soon start to forget Your memory turns to a history The nigga you use to had beef wit is now livin' in your project And that's hell
(Hook) No time for talkin' backwards I'ma blow this automatic Your whole future's goin' down Goin' down-down-down
[Killah Priest] What crosses the mind right before you're flatlined Do you see bright? Do you see night? Do you see Christ? I wonder what heaven is like? Paramedics bring life, to we go where each of us came from One comes cryin', one goes silent Which is worst? I don't know, it makes my brain numb When brothers squeeze triggers to cease niggas Do they think of our future before they shoot ya? What was it a Pale Horse thoughts of William Cooper Nailed to a cross, all leads variety of anxieties within my medulla Kennedy was shot in the head while ridin' the Lincoln I wonder what Lee Harvey Oswald was thinkin' When he tried to escape and hide in the theatre Did he see Mr. John Wilkes Booth in the mirror? For street cred niggas take heads For a block they don't even own The red, blue and gold is in the colors of the rainbow Heads hang low, when it's a four year old that had to go No halo, no big bright wings At the end the dust conquers all of us And that's the true destiny of a king
(Hook)
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