Maccabee Ridaz lyrics

[Intro: Killah Priest]
Yeah, Killah Priest, Timbo King
Maccabeez, n*gga, whatever we do
Heaven Razah, where you at?
We all together, you know what time it is
This is it...

[Killah Priest]
Fall back and analyze, a man rarely seen
Before the cameras eyes, two cannons by his side
Heart's so real, that he can not die
God's my shield, I'm ready to ride
When I was young I'm into breaks by dope phenoms
Now I'mma stare up to space with guns in my palms
Light storms, the cloud forms, the night is born
Draw swords, I'm ready for war
I'm lords over ya'll laws, ya'll rappers, ya'll used to be hot
But now ya'll make me bored, now it's back to board
Back to the core, back to the backsores, putting in work
Back to the block, putting ya'll in the dirt
Bullets insert, lead that comes out, you n*ggas'll squirt
Lead all over the turf, limbs'll hurt
Sanity is the curse, Priesthood, n*gga
Hold guns like Clint Eastwood, plan to eat good, n*gga

[Chorus: Killah Priest]
Yeah.. the Maccabee Ridaz
Maccabee Ridaz
Yo, it's the Maccabee Ridaz
It's the Maccabee Ridaz
[Killah Priest]
I'm a monster, ready to conquer
Hit ya'll muthaf*ckas with the power of a Tonka
Truck, I don't give a f*ck, guns'll buck
n*ggas'll duck, shots start to roll
Under the f*cking cops... yeah... toll
Tell the brothers, straight off the head...
Straight off the lead... from guns to automatic
And it's all the static, comical army grab it
Yeah, ya'll n*ggas is maggots, unload the ratchet
Gats spits, n*ggas placed in caskets
Blow muthaf*cking paper, yo straight off the head, it's my nature
I put it down, yeah, yeah, Timbo, you gon' paint the ground
f*ck that... guns pat, Maccabeez muthaf*cka, one more time

[Chorus w/ ad-libs]

[Timbo King]
Let's ride on 'em, let's ride on 'em
f*ck them n*ggas, f*ck them n*ggas
Them n*ggas busboys, always catching the bus, boy
The game's foul, who can you trust, boy?
Bo, shepherd king, repping Brook, Crook, go 'head and move, rook
Smoking tobacco, my n*ggas blacko
Slap n*ggas, mean what I say
Say what I mean, gangsta lean, Tim Brown slaughterhouse
I want big money, ready to die, big money
Keep food up in the fridge, money
Revolutionary gun talk... ride on 'em, ride on 'em