Текст: Killah Priest. My Daughters.

:
[Killah Priest:]
My daughters are bad; they kill men, record 'em then laugh
I require blood sacrifice, slaughter the calf
One name Ice, the other name Fire
Flames for hair, every pussy cloud desire
I spit 'em out in my image and finish
At the end of their sentence, these women are visions of Virgin
Two-trillion in my mouth, doin' service
Shaped like verses, seductive, darin', destructive
Flarin' over percussions, I spit dark forms of matter
The darkness that draws the atoms
The darkness that bonds the nucleus
That water, alkaline thru platinum
Within the uterus, I spit storms that scatter
Thru out the four corners of the Earth
Drawn from the universe darkness that exists
Before creation, stand before me when I spit
That's how I cremate 'em

[Hook:]
My daughters are men, they're lesbian
But they only human when they come thru the pen
I call my verse the Virgin, pray to St. Mary before I begin
Is Priest superstitious or loose with his vision?

[Killah Priest:]
The thought of my daughters is Horus performin
The chorus by August that make the forest hauntin' like stormin'
Around my brain is a black cloud
High temperatures rise from within
Pen snaps now, leaves fall from trees
My brain novas, mind alignin', the rhyme is science
Blind assignments, find excitement
It's like I'm typin' 700 words per second
Too much for this record to wreckage
Perfection, pestilence spreadin'
The usual settin' to a musical dead end
Your funeral, such a beautiful expression
Immovable presence of Priest, like pillars in Greece
No more Killah, just P, no iller emcee

[Hook]

[Killah Priest:]
Rebellious stars, fallen angels, hell in Mars
Tallest scales over thin shells of my bars
God and devil, life and death, results from ghetto
Mics and breath, Hip-Hop or techno
Bet those people feel me
Rap's a plant seed in the field G
Ants pack leaves in the hill B
Haters kick dirt till I'm filthy rich
Best flow, guilty, rap's a silky stitch

[Hook]