Profits of Man

[Verse 1: Killah Priest] Even Kings die, thrones rust, skeleton bones turn to dust Memories are blown in the gust It's about how you live when you were here How you celebrated those years Were you a follower? Did you try elevating your peers? Were you sincere when you gave the prophets your ears? Or soon as trouble come you disappear Listen here were you real? Did you show love that people could feel? Did you have jealousy but keep it concealed? Did you smile at your man's face? But all awhile wanted to take your man's place Moving around like a snake I know you hate that term, don't call it that Seen lately that's why the Priest been falling back Cause when the Revolution start All those cliques that fall apart will soon be the Devil's mark And none the adversary will have a heart The letter from Priest, my freedom of speech Y'all read 'em and weep The demons that keep you from the path just laugh That's my ink pad looks like Stained Glass A collage of art, that show scenes from the Nazarene's past [Verse 2: Killah Priest] From my connections with 60 Second The Art of War to in the city, signed to Geffen For 5% lessons, Israelite tribal dressing Disciple Armageddons, that Bible record To Sunz of Man to damn near becoming one of the Clan Members I remember, in Brooklyn, GZA and Masta Killa To my last chapters with the RZA Testimony stops, Ol' Dirty got knocked Came home and signed with the ROC Cocaine combined with rocks Rick James style, his nickname "Wild; Old Dirt Dog" It hurt us all when his hearse disappeared in the fog I stayed digital, never analog, original Always camouflaged, turn them cameras off Light those candles God, I'm the example Like I'm speaking from panels y'all The soul inside of me is fiery, society lied to me They said,"You gotta die to be free" My diaries of anxiety frightens me Light will squeeze through my crack buildings where my writing be Striking my page with hyphens and brighten my T's To my seeds, the uncivilized time has come Y'all better run, the time has begun [Verse 3: Killah Priest] Yo, from total strangers to best friends To best friends to brothers from brothers to never calling him again Their coffins descend, one flies to a place of peace The other Lake of Fire, devils hauling you in As one began, one ends, the Earth still spin We're hurt, tears in our shirt, spirit must transcend What you think sleep is for? A deeper cause Preparing us for the other side till the Reaper calls Either or, we're breathing for try a reason Arrived rich but we're leaving poor Stand naked when you see the Lord I stand protected when I see his war, till I exit and I'm free to soar I'm embraced by space, though it's cloudy around me Its light weighs from a tree till they wither the brown leaves Bounty's of blessings from my heavy mind To every rhyme I said, looking from Masada From the Church of Priest, the dark August Till he showed you the art on his Offering Oops, I call it the gift, Behind the Stained Glass It's a frame of my pad, I started this Release the toxins, breathe out the oxygen Now see how shocking you fools if you think the Saint will lose I say things that'll make the picture in the paintings move Now after this ink this jewel, look! [Outro: 60 Second Assassin] What profits that man? Who would gain the whole world yet lose his soul What profits that man? Somebody tell me What profits that man? Somebody tells me What profits that man? Who would fear his enemy and think he didn't exist What profits that man? Somebody tell me What profits that man? Somebody tell me Somebody tell me If you can What profits that man? Who would gain the whole world but lose his soul What profits that man? What profits that man? What profits that man? The way good and evil could never balance equal And no man, for no man could be both good and evil From strings that are attached to each other And that string tilt to one way or the other Even into one grain that'll strip us If you've done evil, then I guess you're missing it It'll be the over-taker, the architecture What I could build will kill