Gotta Eat Lyrics by Killah Priest

Gotta Eat Lyrics

    Masada
    2000

    [ verse 1 ]
    My .44 calicol will silence y'all souls, masada
    The ghost of the most prolific writer
    Upon my death bed in roast in fire
    See my most desires
    Smell the smoke from my flesh as my ghost rise up
    Hear the voices of 100 choirs
    And angels looking down at my body attached to wires
    Priest kissed by the widow spider that spit saliva
    I write for lifers and boxers at rikers
    I write pain
    Blue ink replaced the blood in my veins
    Thug in this game, flooded up rings
    Cluttered up change, quick to pop a slug in your brain
    If you a killer, then slugs we exchange
    We like the mobsters, bullet shells and choppers
    Cop cars and road blockers, they tryin to knock us
    Catch us duck behind the bitches, d's tryin to pop us
    On cbs news while the world watch us

    [ chorus ]
    I do this shit for my thugs
    I do this shit for the chicks at the club
    I do this shit for the niggas that i love
    I do this shit for the streets, cause a nigga gotta eat, luv (2x)

    [ verse 2 ]
    I write theories that's motion pictures, y'all hear me?
    I spit it clearly to roast y'all niggas, feel me?
    Gangster, life of a don my icon
    Sling on my right arm, rubber grip tight in my left arm
    Body suited with teflon, it's brooknam
    Raise a eyebrow at the child, respectfully bow
    Pay hommage, gold studs in my garment
    Hot slugs miss me cause i'm god-sent
    If it hit me, it's god's wish
    No man taketh a life, i'm late in the night
    Catch me in the hood shakin the dice
    Contemplatin a heist
    Some say my team is satan's alike
    Cartel, pop shells till our heart fails
    Brooknam, a.k.a. roswell
    Clappin at the spaceship
    Bitches with fake tits
    At nightclubs
    We live the life of a true thug

    [ chorus ]

    [ verse 3 ]
    I feel a holy spirit comin on me
    My lifestyle: based on a true story
    Read the credits: name appears alphabetic
    On clear film with no edits
    Masada bleedin in the hands of medics
    Priest, i live it epic
    Spoke on records, majestic
    Physique: i stand six feet
    Observe my posture, my click's deep
    Director's edition, just listen
    The words breathe on my sheet, i write a novel
    Speak on behalf of every slain apostle
    My slang's hostile, say my name as gospel
    Masada, pop 2 through the confession booth
    Don't say nothin, pull my weapon and shoot
    Bullets wettin their suits
    Herut's lady put death in my shoes
    Cats die violent in war, silence the .4
    The fall slow motion, seen the silent applause

    [ chorus ]

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