Truth B Told

[Killah Priest] 
  Stephen King never wrote a scene as horrific 
  As God as my witness, what I write should make you artists suspicious 
  Pardon a nigga, as I say what's in my heart I guess it's just part of me venting 
  'Cause like you I'm from the park and the benches 
  So what can I lose?  We'll make a conscious decision 
  'Cause I'm known to spaz when I'm asked my remarks on this business 
  In this game of do you and regardless of friendship 
  So excuse me when you reach for my palms and part of me flinches 
  It's not you dog, it's the critics 
  They might catch me in the flick drunk with some strippers 
  And my girl see it as part of some sick photographer vengeance 
  So many new people around I gotta be sharp when in attendance 
  I mean it's great to MC, to display this art is a privilege 
  But now I gotta get down to darken my sentence 
  I dream of dead babies, streams of blood 
  Raining fire and brimstone, wipe the Earth clean with floods 
  I'm drowning my face next to the meanest thug 
  I'm telling my testimony to the supreme above 
  Ain't I from thy genes, the Priest was a king beloved 
  Then there appeared a bright beam with white wings of a dove 
  It's lightning, people screamed and shoved 
  It's frightening, but I kept writing 'cause what I seen was the judge 
  And what he shown me where grave sites and crucifixes 
  Ruthless bitches, how they treat you and what they do to your riches 
  For thirty pieces of silver niggas will kill you 
  I read Judas' scriptures, only warned me to be true to my niggas 
  The game corrupt like Catholic Church and child nudity pictures 
  That's like the Virgin Mary performing Karma Sutra with Hitler 
  The proof of my liquor is 180, the Grey Goose in my liver 
  But I still spit truth to the listener 

  [Break: Killah Priest] 
  That's enough son 
  Session up, stop 

  [Killah Priest] 
  No, hold up let me explain a second 
  I signed my first deal with Geffen Records 
  I told those crackers I ain't no motherfucker stepping fetched 
  To my recollection those bastards 
  Were like, “cool we'll drop you have our A&R go find the next one” 
  I said I'll sue, they said, “that's alright Blacky 
  Take us to court and your lawyer Larry Stud Nicky 
  We've been breaking him off”, I almost felt ruined 
  And in the midst of the confusion 
  They said to motherfucking intern, “Sam, we don't understand his music” 
  “And how the fuck we market this 
  He talking all that God Body and that prophet shit” 
  I said, “damn, but it's still street, it's real, niggas can relate to it” 
  In return they said, “Priest throw that shit in the sewage” 
  Meanwhile niggas like Nas and 'Kiss and Pun 
  Is telling me I'm nice, down to G Rap and KRS-One 
  And GZA told me all this shit would happen, just keep rapping 
  I said, “that's piece God but I ain't motherfucking tapping” 
  But still these labels our fucking with me, it's Priest 
  Volume One, nigga, shit about to get ugly