Watchin' Me

Hell Razah

    Continúa después del anuncio

    [Intro: Killah Priest]
    I, Ghetto Jesus, speak to you from the Maccabee Militia
    Since 1776...

    [Chorus: Killah Priest (Heart)]
    When you surfing on your Internet... (nowhere to run)
    Or turn on your T.V. set... (nowhere to hide)
    On the back of your dollar bill... (all on my own)
    Send your boy out to Porter's field (they just gon' watch)
    When you talk on your cellular phone... (eyes all around me)
    When you think that you all alone... (pausing me)
    While you sitting at your job desk... (wherever I go)
    Or you in front of your projects... (they are watching me)

    [Hell Razah:]
    I gotta, threw on my silencer, my hoodie go over my yarmulke
    I'm a conquerer, they honor us saints with a harmonica
    We sing songs, like the Book of Psalms
    Seven stars in our palms, I say shalom
    Before I talk to my moms, with Genesis
    Tattooed on my arms, my skin bronzed
    Woolie hair, don't stare in my eyes, they firey
    We the Maccabee dynasty, check our diary
    God guiding me, even though, hell is watching me
    Satellite's x-raying your life, they know the flavors of rice
    At nighttime, hear your prayers to Christ
    Watching, got the key to the doors you locking
    Who supply all the keys and the guns, you copping
    Watching, every move that you make, recorded on tape
    This ain't Enemy of the State, they watching
    Got channels, with antennas, that catscan us
    Looking for the answers of our ancestors
    Airports got metal detectors
    So I travel in a thought, where they can't catch us...

    [Chorus]

    Continúa después del anuncio

    [Killah Priest:]
    Like stares of echo, when I talk, you can see white frost
    I be there by your side, when you turn the lights off
    I'm like a ghost, no post, that beast in his body
    Just the voice of Malcolm X, to Marcus Garvey
    To Ennis Cosby, watch me, when inches my eyes see them
    Like I'm looking through God's lens, my dark skins turn leopards
    My eyes roll back of my head, then I deliver the message...
    From the angels to an agent, to the politicians to a prophet
    What I write is sacred, it's like man on a stand
    And his life that he's faced with, the year '94, month March
    Day 14th, I'm somewhere in the park in Fort Greene
    Cops they drive past slow, look me dead in my eyes
    Like we both know, I'm bout to set a revolt
    Checking everybody through weed smoke
    This that hood shit, but these niggas will start riots
    Talking cocktail bombs, fuck starting a fire
    My nigga J.R., knocked down a horse, with police still on it
    Smiled, said he do this for sport
    We laughed, time passed, and I ain't see him since
    Seen no collector's cash, and push weed through a fence
    Next thing you know, his body pops up in a ditch
    Who did it? Know the cops, but they wouldn't admit... why?

    [Chorus]

    [Timbo King:]
    What the eyes see, what the ears hear, the mind believes
    Buck at these, I'm running through the P's
    Top of the watchtower, overlooking the view
    Now anything come through, we chew
    Four corner the market, mob the stool, my father's jewel
    Fuck the judicial, municipal, I slap bells off of justice face
    Supreme Court can't just a case, I got eyes in back of my head
    I see the past and the present, before and after my essence
    Look, first, I'm a crook, first
    Under surveillence, the feds wanna zoom in
    At my goon men, who be ruling... yeah
    My Militia consist of gorillas and lions
    In the pits of the fire, in the middle of Zion
    Go to war like David, when he stoned Goliath
    In, front of the projects, the phones is wired
    Watch you, park your truck, then strip your tires
    I see dead people living in a jail inviting
    Closed caption, widescreen, R. Kel' with minors
    Say cheese, I'm a send his picture over seas
    So they can see the same disease, and the air we breath
    3D vision, you see them three d's listening
    Carpet and son, you see me fishing, free my vision...
    Free my vision...

    [Chorus]

    [Outro: Hell Razah]
    24 hours, we being recorded on tape
    Every move we make... going to get money from the banks
    Going to get food out the score
    Going to get gas... anything we fucking do right now
    Is being recorded...

    Información de la canción

    Composición:

    ¿Los datos están equivocados?

    Enviar revisión

    Canciones relacionadas