Stephen King never wrote a scene as horrific

As God as my witness

What I write should make new artists suspicious

Pardon a nigga

As I say what's in my heart

I guess it's just part of me venting

'Cause like you I'm from the park and the benches

So what could I lose but make a conscious decision

'Cause I'm known to spaz

When I'm asked my remarks on this business

This game will do you in regardless of friendship

So excuse me when you reach for my palms

And part of me flinches

It's not you, dog, it's the critics

The might catch me in a flick drunk with some strippers

And my girl see it

It's part of some sick photographer's vengeance

Real Talk!

So many new people around me

I gotta be sharp with attendance

I mean it's great to MC

To display this art is a privilege

But now I gotta get down to darken my sentence

I dream of dead babies, streams of blood

Raining fire, brimstone, wipe the Earth clean with floods

I'm drowning

My face next to the meanest thugs

I'm telling my testimony to the Supreme above

Ain't I from thy genes?

The Priest was a King, beloved

Then there appeared a bright being, with white wings of a dove

It's lightning, people screamed and shoved

It's frightening, but I kept writing

'Cause what I seen was the judge

And what he showed me were grave sites

And crucifixes, ruthless bitches

How they treat you and what they do to your riches

For thirty pieces of silver, niggas'll kill ya

I read Judas' scriptures, only warned me to be true to my niggas

And getting corrupt, like Catholic church

And child nudity pictures

That's like the Virgin Mary performing Kama Sutra with Hitler

The proof in my liquor is 180

The Grey Goose in my liver

But I still spit truth to the listeners



That's enough son!

That's enough!

Stop!



Nah... hold up...

Let me explain a second

I signed my first deal with Geffen records

I told them crackers "I ain't no muthafuckin' Stepin Fetchit"

To my recollection, those bastards were like

"Cool, we'll drop you, have our A&R go find the next one"

I said "I'll sue! "

They said "That's alright, blackie

Take us to court!

And your lawyer Larry Studnickie? We been breaking him off"

I almost felt ruined

And in the midst of the confusion

They sent a muthafucking intern

Saying "we don't understand his music

Now how the fuck we market this?

He's talking all that Godbody and that prophet shit"

I said "Damn! But it's still street!

It's real! Niggas can relate to it! "

In return they said, "Priest throw that shit in the sewage"

Meanwhile, niggas like Nas and Kiss and Pun

Is telling me I'm nice

Down to G Rap to KRS One

And GZA told me all this shit would happen, just keep rappin'

I said "that's peace, God, but I ain't muthafucking tapping"

But still these labels are fucking with me

It's Priest!

Volume 1