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Killah Priest Gotta Eat Here are the song lyrics for Gotta Eat by Killah Priest. For more excellent Killah Priest lyrics, run a search! Masada 2000 [ verse 1 ] My .44 calicol will silence yall souls, masada The ghost of the most prolific writer Upon my death bed in roast in fire See my most desires Smell the smoke from my flesh as my ghost rise up Hear the voices of 100 choirs And angels looking down at my body attached to wires Priest kissed by the widow spider that spit saliva I write for lifers and boxers at rikers I write pain Blue ink replaced the blood in my veins Thug in this game, flooded up rings Cluttered up change, quick to pop a slug in your brain If you a killer, then slugs we exchange We like the mobsters, bullet shells and choppers Cop cars and road blockers, they tryin to knock us Catch us duck behind the bitches, ds tryin to pop us On cbs news while the world watch us [ chorus ] I do this shit for my thugs I do this shit for the chicks at the club I do this shit for the niggas that I love I do this shit for the streets, cause a nigga gotta eat, luv (2x) [ verse 2 ] I write theories thats motion pictures, yall hear me? I spit it clearly to roast yall niggas, feel me? Gangster, life of a don my icon Sling on my right arm, rubber grip tight in my left arm Body suited with teflon, its brooknam Raise a eyebrow at the child, respectfully bow Pay hommage, gold studs in my garment Hot slugs miss me cause Im god-sent If it hit me, its gods wish No man taketh a life, Im late in the night Catch me in the hood shakin the dice Contemplatin a heist Some say my team is satans alike Cartel, pop shells till our heart fails Brooknam, a.k.a. roswell Clappin at the spaceship Bitches with fake tits At nightclubs We live the life of a true thug [ chorus ] [ verse 3 ] I feel a holy spirit comin on me My lifestyle: based on a true story Read the credits: name appears alphabetic On clear film with no edits Masada bleedin in the hands of medics Priest, I live it epic Spoke on records, majestic Physique: I stand six feet Observe my posture, my clicks deep Directors edition, just listen The words breathe on my sheet, I write a novel Speak on behalf of every slain apostle My slangs hostile, say my name as gospel Masada, pop 2 through the confession booth Dont say nothin, pull my weapon and shoot Bullets wettin their suits Heruts lady put death in my shoes Cats die violent in war, silence the .4 The fall slow motion, seen the silent applause [ chorus ]
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