Lyrics:
are
searching the square roughly turning over baskets and shaking down PASSERS-BY.
BRIAN appears near a rather dull little PROPHET, who is standing
of grey dirt
4 prophets spread the holy gospel of Gods word
All knowing, all places, intelligent movement
Symbolised as the goat worshipped by his
to stop
Playin' his old shit, knowin' he won't top it, false prophets
Somebody shoulda told me it would be like this
Be like this, be like this
the fuck, bitch, you delirious
I was built for this shit like a pyramid
You can't get rid of this
Haters they fixin to hate
They see me ride by in my
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or,
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or,
you act delirious
Peter Kings the type to go and make these rappers furious, uh
Look in my face I’m so mysterious
But I keep this shit a hunnid better
resist you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by
should really learn from experience
They told me that they think I'm delirious
They probably take me out like Nipsey
But I'll be Husslin nonetheless
the work
Down low, shake it, twerk
You come on our song and you try to slag our mothers
Don't fuck with the Prophets or you'll end up like the others (Six
Preacher said that's evident
Prophet said estimate
Grateful for the medicine
Creatures make it definite
Delicate
Collected in my element
Protected by
I, leap over lies in a single bound (Who are you?)
The Black Prophet
One day I got struck by Knowledge of Self
It gave me super-scientifical powers
the wishing well
My innocent eyes look deep into the evil of their souls
They are judged by the child of the chaos emeralds
From the lips of a child prophet
I was a silent partner for once
And I was split into two sections
Here is my heart and here is my song
There are too many prophets here
I am
By the 'and of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? --
'Cause all I ever
Old pirates, yes, they rob I
Sold I to the merchant ship
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit
But my hand was made strong
By the hand
Which the other animals loved him one day
He saw a prophet striding
Along and decided to improve on what
Was already beautiful he set
Out walking but
Old pirates, yes, they rob I
Sold I to the merchant ships
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit
But my hand was made strong
By
Old pirates, yes, they rob I
Sold I to the merchant ships
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit
But my hand was made strong
By
Old pirates, yes, they rob I
Sold I to the merchant ships
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit
But my hand was made strong
By the hand
pollinated by the "Be"
Pac called it the rose that rose from concrete
How do you define divine that finds street?
"Hip bop," the color of my leaves
Not
erase it
You will know them by their fruits
When it's of God you cannot fake it
(They can't fake it)
Yuh! I tell them false prophets "SIT DOWN"!
Jesus
will tell you
They made it by selling souls
Then bitter spitters split hairs
Compare it to rock n roll
But honestly all the same
When under station
You bitches ain't hood
Not even slightly
Ima prophet to your nigga
Got him on his knees nightly
All bark and no bite
You bitches talking never
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