Hard Times

[Killah Priest] The prophecies of a poor man end on a train Take his last breath Slumps over drops his last bit of change A mother pacing by her window pane Staring hopeless at the gentle rain When the messenger returns telling her That her child was slain She reaches for his picture frame Open up the good book read the scriptures And sighs his name The skies full of flames Streets are gothic Twelve niggas lay dead in front of their projects Reminding D's of a classic mob hit Bitches gossip, about they men being targets, or suspects Niggas in the lab taking goldenseal For tomorrows drug test Scared niggas hugging they techs Don't want to get plugged next Outside there's a bloodfeast We all product, faced with hard luck Since the wrath of God struck Now we like "Yo Tone let me borrow a buck" He like "Yo what the fuck" Niggas was born to be skeletons Or was it the curse of this dark melanin When I die will I open my eyes in Hell again With these jealous men Lord forgive me but I smell a gin On the lips of winos Sent a plaque turned 'em all into Albinos With horns coming from their foreheads like Rhinos Read it in my last testament and my hidden scrolls See my icon straight faced with a torn robe A beard and some cornrows The whole globe hears when I perform my shows [Chorus 2x: Killah Priest] We go from hard times to part-times From part-time back to hard times That's the start of crime Till the day we see the father shine Light on us, trying to warn us We play the corners [Killah Priest] I visit monasteries Where dons were buried Approached the bench with teary eyes Tryin to con the jury Christ said those of you without sin, cast the first stone Those of you without ends, blast the first chrome Is it the prophecies of Deuteronomy That drove us to this poverty? Trapped with starvin seeds Fightin for sovereignty Cold nights make the toddler freeze Blood over my wallabies Raining mahogany Here's a dollar for the trees We worship weed like idolatry Silly bitches with conniving thoughts Sticking knives and folks Don't understand what it's like to be a black man in court Niggas up screamin all night Complaining that their handcuffs are too tight Kicking on the cell till they cut out the lights It's like a curse Walk besides white women they start holding they purse I just ask you for the time bitch What you got anyway? Some of the Indians turf The Beauty that once flowed from the Nile Like the Moses child The hand that writes is a good as the hand that holds the plow [Chorus] [Killah Priest] Some say the spirit of a dead angel lies within me Look in my eyes, they're empty Poverty stricken beaten with the rod ol envy Lurking through the shadows of death Dragging my wings, saw the image of a beast Ram, dragon and queen, heard the bragging of kings Whose laughter was as bitter as a scorpion sting? Forced in the ring with idiots so many cliques Letting out automatic clips A dead lady combing the hair of a bastard bitch I spit graphic shit you ain't hear half of it From my fucked up marriages To dealing with miscarriages From drinking with savages Driving hazardous I'm here today to meet the man from Nazareth Where's the pastor? Show me where that chapter is [Chorus 2x]