[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 n***a 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 n***as, 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, n***a

[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]
N***as cry like Calictus the Third, when Rome fell
A future for a n***a 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...