Killah Priest – Wu Hoo Freestyle Lyrics
[Killah Priest]
I spit fire; exist in worlds that may be higher than yours
Little boys run play wit your toys
Fingerprints in the universe, I move asteroids
Paranoid, I go deeper than you, pass a void
Rap, enjoy art full of secrets, come rappers, get destroyed
They call me the King of the Heathens, for reasons
I start squeezin', buss off rhymes, like a couple of nines
Cup full of wine; sip the niggas that's trippin'
My mind's a millennium, shootouts in space and Amphibians
Plenty guns, African race and half Indian
One third Phoenix bird and Reptilian
Dark-ages, new-age, call me Mantanian
Chair turn into a throne, I'm Justinian
Ruthless, fist turn into stone, I kill many men
Nine-hundred souls of God
Seven universes of sun, moon, the globe and the star
It's in my heart, so of course in God's form
When I spit, niggas just don't hear my shit, they log on
Check the inbox, when I press in, it's Hip-Hop
Homepage of rage, more things to watch
I send 'em a link, the more they think...
Pop-up, hard luck, bars of snuff, the screen touch
Within my head is all a jury of King Tut
I hard and I jerk off my pen, my ink bust
I cobra clutch the mic wit incredible grip
I spit unforgettable shit, till your edible click
Your Beretta's don't spit, you have barrette and some hips
No homo, fuck around, you'll be in medical stip
The rhyme pump shotty, gave 'em a hell of a lift
It's the 'Psychic World of Walter Reed'
All can bleed, force from, tank top tattoos
But his name is Shirley, early
I spit fire; exist in worlds that may be higher than yours
Little boys run play wit your toys
Fingerprints in the universe, I move asteroids
Paranoid, I go deeper than you, pass a void
Rap, enjoy art full of secrets, come rappers, get destroyed
They call me the King of the Heathens, for reasons
I start squeezin', buss off rhymes, like a couple of nines
Cup full of wine; sip the niggas that's trippin'
My mind's a millennium, shootouts in space and Amphibians
Plenty guns, African race and half Indian
One third Phoenix bird and Reptilian
Dark-ages, new-age, call me Mantanian
Chair turn into a throne, I'm Justinian
Ruthless, fist turn into stone, I kill many men
Nine-hundred souls of God
Seven universes of sun, moon, the globe and the star
It's in my heart, so of course in God's form
When I spit, niggas just don't hear my shit, they log on
Check the inbox, when I press in, it's Hip-Hop
Homepage of rage, more things to watch
I send 'em a link, the more they think...
Pop-up, hard luck, bars of snuff, the screen touch
Within my head is all a jury of King Tut
I hard and I jerk off my pen, my ink bust
I cobra clutch the mic wit incredible grip
I spit unforgettable shit, till your edible click
Your Beretta's don't spit, you have barrette and some hips
No homo, fuck around, you'll be in medical stip
The rhyme pump shotty, gave 'em a hell of a lift
It's the 'Psychic World of Walter Reed'
All can bleed, force from, tank top tattoos
But his name is Shirley, early
