Planet to Planet

[Intro: 7th Ambassador] For all my brothers locked down For all my brothers across the globe And it's fucked up in the game, man Knowhatimsaying, we gon' get this thing right, man Straight real... yeah, man, get copped, bitch [7th Ambassador] The stress low, got me facing death row Ready to let the tech blow, up in some bitch nigga head, yo I need bread dough fast, I drink a dead hoe ass By any means for me to get more cash It's a cheddar dream I'm chasing, beretta beams adjacent Leave the scene vacant, standing with a mean face in the king's nature It's justifiable, I'm just that reliable Just underniably survival, all my rivals Cops too can get it, when they try to ruin my livings The root of the business, you fool and you finish Too many niggas, too many times, make, foolish decisions From my choice, you could be gone in a minute, and on a statistic Found face down, in a pond with the fishes I'm relentless with my scriptures, you pawns get, the picture If you the vict', then I'm the victor Leave you gone for so long, your fam won't wish to kiss ya, nigga [Killah Priest] I blindfold thy flow with cloth covered Solomon's robe The kind that chris' stole, the diamond of soul The Nazareth man, with gats in my hand, I spit that vengeance The vain of the ghetto, that sees that vengeance Amongst, angels and devils, America planting seeds in my vine The butter, the struggle, the pain, ruined divines Cobwebs attach my brain to my skull A poet tears, fall from my eyes, my ache is dough When Huey P. fell to his death, what did he think? Is all our black brothers gonna be extinct? Was his last words, whispered to a pastor Does the warm light turn blacker? Or was he panting like he had asthma? NASA, sending up shuttles While we are down here on the Earth, we have to hustle I stare into the face of the deep, my body heat rise I see the 24 elders, each tribe A hundred and forty four thousand, from welfare office To the prison, in the ghetto housings My face is a falcon, my mouth is a beak Look like the Egyptian mystic, man, I talk out the sheet [Chorus 2X: Killah Priest] I move through planets, like I move from ghetto to ghetto I see a Sphinx in my hood, when I walk through my borough Let's reload, where we from From Bethelehem to my hood, I still blow out gun [Hell Razah] As America is headed for doom, new born's coming out the womb Breathing in poisonous shrooms Different President, same costume Prepare the table in the upper roo, I heard Christ coming in soon We was raised off of Marvin Gaye, now look at us now We King Tuts of the modern day Got hands like Langston Hughes, drop jewels Like Curtis Mayfield, made gangsta blues Black jew rap Sammy Davis, write a script like Spike Lee Then take back our forty acres Aiyo, the hood is my resident, God is my President I still hear pops playing Duke Ellington In the projects, they keep felons in, on medicine War veterans, coming home, more heroine More guns in a minor's hand And wanna fuck up our future plans [Killah Priest] Niggas cry like Calictus the Third, when Rome fell A future for a nigga be thrown in jail I see O.G.'s cry, over gangsta caskets Preacher, say a prayer, close the lid, and that's it Bastards, gang members, and local thugs Sell drugs, to survive, demons and four fives A cold nine does not exist, it's only a hot gun With a warm clip...