Sativa

Killah Priest
King Zohar, uh
New shit exclusive
[?] a movement
Heavy mental thoughts the blueprint
We from the future and we ruling
There’s no confusion
Which are fake rappers’ illusion

I’d rather be chilling in Costa Rica with Mona Lisa
Laid back smoking reefer or holding heaters
Diplomat on both our visas
Golden teacher, may the omens greet ya
I’d rather be exquisite gambling, luxury rooms
Limited dining, finest resorts and pools
Unlimited mileage take us to primitive islands
In the village, icecaps on mountains
I rap for balance, not for [?]
It’s compact in ounces, not watered down in gallons
I slaughter y’all with talent
Business cards, dinner with the gods
A tiger on my plate, I ate [?]
Driving down the Milky Way
My DNA’s of a god race while y’all play Scarface
I’m in a whole different star gate
My heart rate is from dark space, in stone with the large face
Used to lock bones, listen to Rob Base
But got in the zone when I listened to robbed tapes
I was Walter water of love
Now I take a quart of your blood with a mic recorder and plug
I enter, slaughter with gloves, my thought is from above and beyond rap
This is actual fact
Plus degrees of emcees are freezed
Liked glaciers of Pluto with craters
Sumo or paper, a guru in Asia
King Zohar, leave rings when I blow bars
I put you in slings in your whole squad
Watch you swing like strings when I flow hard
You an amateur, I’m where the pros are
NBA, NFL, MLB, NHL, major league emcees
Peace to Sun Ra, the jazz god
[?] is legendary, the Upsetter is a visionary
George Clinton has vision off limits, outer dimensions
This is Bootsy Collins with Kool Keith rhyming
Africa Bambaataa of the chakra
RIP [?], our father who art the legends
Our b-boy kings, I am your son on earth as you are the legends
Give us this day words that’s never said
And give me [?] as from my ancestors
And lead us not into the wack radio stations
And deliver rhymes lethal
For thine is the kingdom of project stories
Forever pure, ah yeah, the god is here
The stars appear far and near, the bars are clear, not hard to hear
Different time, different ways to rhyme, line for line, mastermind
Yo, 4th Disciple, you should call this Close Encounter of the Fourth Kind
I’m off time
I’m in my own zone from above the ozone
Some other chromosomes
With a microphone that’s made from every prophet in the Bible bones
So when I rhyme, cast stone for lasting poems
My skin is burnt bass tone
Hip-hop hierarchy, [?] Marcus Garvey, big as Biz Markie, Lovebug Starski
T La Rock had the key to unlock the brain to dimensions
Oh, did I mention I crush competition?
The rap god engineering of [?] fears
The don is near, the calm is here
Milky Way brainwaves, DNA of E&J
Connect suspended cables into implant nodes
Placed the robot mode, the last science code
The lyrics hold like remote control
Lost your soul, get it back in hold, '1-4

[Sound Bites]

Lyrical wizard, spiritual mystic
Mystical in physics, visit as pictures
You see it when you hear it
Receive it like a village
Lethal in my cerebral
Pharaohs push scarab beetles on the Hebrews
Now it’s Arabs with Desert Eagles
Deep flows make my ego big as cathedrals
The crew’s see-through and weak and feeble
So move your people before someone gets shot for the wack rhymes you dropped
The cosmic naut autobot
Instincts and emotions, mind devotion
Bridge of transcendence and oneness with mental lyrics
The Lord made the heavens and the earth and saw that it was good
There’s no emcee in my neck of the woods
Get the noose, you tryna get respect if you could
The letter alpha is one
The basic geometric of the sun
The DJ spun
[?] when I come
So love y’all with all thy heart and might
The god of rap is on the mic
I go hard when I write
You see stars when I strike
Since I signed with Geffen, a rhyme legend
Since ‘9-6, ‘9-7
The mind’s sick, each line’s a weapon
Yet designed to find peasants and kill ‘em like leopards