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Big Country - Witness the King lyrics
[Killah Priest]
 As my soul gets darker, my guns will spark ya
 Greet the night stalker, meet your fate
 Bow and pay homage, I rap with a garment
 Like one of the profits that's teaching faith
 One mistake and your life gets tooken, I'm from Brooklyn
 Two blocks over from where Satan lives
 Where my niggaz break in cribs and we shake your kids
 Turn 'em upside down, "Where that bacon is?"
 But we don't kill toddlers, feel the revolver
 On the side of the father or the mother
 It's time for you to suffer, I kill your brothers
 Front and be laying under covers
 My rap style smothers, sweet like smuckers
 Pull out the heat and you studder, no teeth, just pucker
 And kiss my rings, I hit with a sting, the gifts you bring
 Witness the king
 [Chorus x2: Killah Prirest]
 The strongest motherfucker make the world go 'round
 If you a weak motherfucker then you best bow down
 Show your respect, kneel or you might be next
 Pay homage to my rings, and witness the king
 [Killah Priest]
 Come on
 Show gratitude, never attitude
 When I start grabbin' tools, your ass is his'
 One shot make a nigga turn bitch real quickBig Country - Witness the King - http://motolyrics.com/big-country/witness-the-king-lyrics.html
 Deal with the ruckus, I leave ya in crutches
 I shoot ya'll in public, put two through your luggage
 The gun to your nugget, run your jewels
 I rap for motherfuckers, clapped at motherfuckers
 If you don't know then you must be schooled
 My flow's bonafied to be a supreme force
 Cultivate the rhyme to make a supreme source
 Activate the mind, I'm a light that taught
 Don't wait for prime time, the fight is off
 Witness the king
Chorus x2
 [Killah Priest]
 Come on
 I bet ya'll never heard a rapper like I
 Cut to the gut motherfucker, ask why
 Once I reply it's the sty 'til I die
 Down to the bill, nigga work in the field
 Squirtin' the steel, caps get peeled
 Cats get killed, wack until I feel it's necessary to get wet in every
 Spot from the glock, drop two double oh's
 In trouble your souls, three fifty seven mac 10, better
 You say never, I say whatever, spraying berettas
 Nothing protect ya, tear up your texture
 Applyin' that pressure, it's my pleasure
 Hit you from your neck up, I want that respect, what!
Chorus x2








