The Collector
Killah Priest, Bobby J
Kwamé, on the tracks
My soul wrestle with devils
Beneath black skies
Baptized with oil from a vessel
The hands of rabbis
Gleaming which held a boy with freckles
Bad vibe
Made me smoke till I was forgetful
Sad eyes
Did lines of coke till I was regretful
Watched the months on the calendar fall like rose pedals
Priest I swam outta the gene pool
Then went straight into the steam room
To clear the evil
For drugs illegal and lethal
A pinch of bath salt on a tea spoon
The phantom with his mask off in the b room
Insane asylums with brain problems
I've seen angels that cause violence
Off shores and on islands
I was exiled for revealing the X-Files
Drew on my freestyle
Wild on holy grounds
Found
When he was senile
Killah P from the Nile
Killa bees going wild
Take off their blindfold
Sacrificed a cow
Faced a Nazarite and bow
Drafted in from the Vatican
The Anakin's graft of skin
Plastered gin
Priest J-Ronin omen's cloning
Roaming with red coating
They vanish in the wind
I make fresh rhymes daily
Many styles
The collector
I got a lot ... still on point
I got a lot ...lot... lot
The collector
Yeah
Feel that rush of serotonin
Each poem is like an omen
That's potent as the potion
Abrew from the witches' coven
Fuck is you bitches smoking
You bugging like glitch is broken
I'm sewing your open wounds
Then busting your stitches open
I'm serving simpletons like Wimbledon
Or pros in the US Open
My prose got the US opened
Hip hop was dead but I'm glad we got it back
Destined for the pantheon of rap
Since the amniotic sac
I sit on a throne that's all porcelain
The raw swordsman
With one fourth of the four horsemen
Your war-torn village gets pillaged
I forewarned them but they didn't heed
Chop heads from atop my steed
The guillotine Ginsu knife wielder killa from Killa Queens
Arguably the illest even philistines'll feel his schemes
Soliloquy of chaos the seance
Reveal the beast
Killa bees on the swarm
Bobby J, Killah Priest
I make fresh rhymes daily
Many styles
The collector
I got a lot ... still on point
I got a lot ...lot... lot
The collector
Kwamé, on the tracks
My soul wrestle with devils
Beneath black skies
Baptized with oil from a vessel
The hands of rabbis
Gleaming which held a boy with freckles
Bad vibe
Made me smoke till I was forgetful
Sad eyes
Did lines of coke till I was regretful
Watched the months on the calendar fall like rose pedals
Priest I swam outta the gene pool
Then went straight into the steam room
To clear the evil
For drugs illegal and lethal
A pinch of bath salt on a tea spoon
The phantom with his mask off in the b room
Insane asylums with brain problems
I've seen angels that cause violence
Off shores and on islands
I was exiled for revealing the X-Files
Drew on my freestyle
Wild on holy grounds
Found
When he was senile
Killah P from the Nile
Killa bees going wild
Take off their blindfold
Sacrificed a cow
Faced a Nazarite and bow
Drafted in from the Vatican
The Anakin's graft of skin
Plastered gin
Priest J-Ronin omen's cloning
Roaming with red coating
They vanish in the wind
I make fresh rhymes daily
Many styles
The collector
I got a lot ... still on point
I got a lot ...lot... lot
The collector
Yeah
Feel that rush of serotonin
Each poem is like an omen
That's potent as the potion
Abrew from the witches' coven
Fuck is you bitches smoking
You bugging like glitch is broken
I'm sewing your open wounds
Then busting your stitches open
I'm serving simpletons like Wimbledon
Or pros in the US Open
My prose got the US opened
Hip hop was dead but I'm glad we got it back
Destined for the pantheon of rap
Since the amniotic sac
I sit on a throne that's all porcelain
The raw swordsman
With one fourth of the four horsemen
Your war-torn village gets pillaged
I forewarned them but they didn't heed
Chop heads from atop my steed
The guillotine Ginsu knife wielder killa from Killa Queens
Arguably the illest even philistines'll feel his schemes
Soliloquy of chaos the seance
Reveal the beast
Killa bees on the swarm
Bobby J, Killah Priest
I make fresh rhymes daily
Many styles
The collector
I got a lot ... still on point
I got a lot ...lot... lot
The collector
Credits
Writer(s): Robert Joseph
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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