9th Prince – Cyanide Poetry Lyrics

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[Intro: 9th Prince]
Yeah, yo, yo, yo

[9th Prince]
Welcome to concrete jungle
Where weak niggas stumble, but the player don't fumble
Staten Island niggas like to rumble
Up in Keisha's party, from A Tribe Called Quest
RZA introduced me as his guest
I met Nia Long, kissed her on her hand
Then chill, fell back in my B-Boy stance
Niggas that's artificial, get smacked in the face with pistols
I explode like missiles
Racing at the speed of light, it gets critical
Niggas turning genocidal, God himself makes his arrival
With a bulletproof bible, the lost children of Israel, you know about survival
Catching bullets with my teeth, walk across mud and with bronze feet
The black Iron Sheik, I bring raw heat to the streets
Ya'll weak niggas incomplete
The 9th Prince, muthafucka, ain't nothing sweet

[Hook 2X: 9th Prince]
Aiyo, I'm tired of ya'll wack rappers, acting like you gun clappers
I'm like Moses, I'm like Jesus
I'm like Farrakhan, fighting against Genghis Khan
With a sword and shield on my arm
Word is bond, word is bond, word is bond
Word is bond, it's on

[Killah Priest]
Yo 9th, they don't know about war, lyrical combat
Our tongues were swords, rhyming warfare, on and off air
For the parks, lobbies and stores, all they know about is folklore
My lyrical ghost hand will reach out and choke all of ya'll
MC's is body, even your man can get broke off
Names on murals inside my brain stained walls
I reign imperial, rappers circle the drain of hip hop floors
If I wasn't taking your heart out, I would somewhat write
And try to put bars in clouds
My skull holds twenty three brains
So a piece of me ask questions, while another piece of me explains
Fourteen pieces speak on God plane
While the other fourteen leaves MC's flame
Red rain, black blood, tracks of mud
Leads to the hideout, my dry mouth
From all my killings, MC villain
The superhero, Mr. Evil, bullets through pillows
Red feathers stuck in carpets, slain artists
Black Market, train the hardest
They don't know about the celestial body with seven hearts
Each of them different colors
Black for rappers I smothered
Gold for the raps my tongue throw
And rainbows, for all the spit my flame goes
Your brain slows, my saliva is lava, my mouth is a volcano
One bullet, I aim blow, Killah Priest, the angel
Anglosaxin, when I'm rapping

[Hook 4X]

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