Lyrics: KILLAH PRIEST "BOP YOUR HEAD" (0/1)

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Current version of
Killah Priest Lyrics
Bop Your Head

(http://www.mp3lyrics.org/k/killah-priest/bop/)

Current version of the lyrics

Version 1 of
Killah Priest Lyrics
Bop Your Head

(http://www.mp3lyrics.org/k/killah-priest/bop/v1.html)

Version 1 of the lyrics

* from the forthcoming "A View From Masada"

[Movie Sample]

*horses neighing*

As the final days begin, God sends four

terrible horsemen *horses neighing*

to reek his vengeance on a sinfull

word. The first three bring

conquest to war and famine.

[Intro: Killah Priest]

Yea, yea, yea, yea.

Yea, yea. Fuck that!

I'm set it off. Yea, yea, ya shitted.

(Set it off.) Yea, yea, ya shitted.

Ya in some shit now, son.

It's on now, mothafuckas can suck my dick.

I'm back! Fuck that shit!

Ready to eat niggaz up, beat they ass and e'rything, son.

I'ma prove this shit, right here.

Me and my nigga. What!?

[Movie Sample]

Violence and punishment of enemies.

[Killah Priest]

The emperor, chief sinister, street minister

I give a fake rapper a heart attack, once I start to rap

Guarenteed in two bars to finish ya

I'm a vocalist, nigga, I'm supposed to rip

React like a cat when he arches back

Give a fake rapper a heart attack, once I start to rap

I'm a vocalist, nigga, supposed to rip

Last Poet's told me this, hit ya in ya

head wit my explosive fist

Then I finish ya off with my tremendous horse-kick

Then I finish ya off with my tremendous

What now, nigga? Look at ya, talk shit

horse-kick *horses neighing*

Can't do it, cuz you ain't got no teeth in ya mouth

What now, nigga? Look at ya talk shit

Just can't do it, cuz you ain't got no teeth in ya mouth

And I know ya just tired of me, beatin ya out

Ya trained all year, in a karate class

It took one second, to put yo' ass in a body bag

And took one second, to put yo' ass in a body bag

>From a shotty blast, I walk up in ya

club and ya parties don't last

I like to pop shit, don't get me started

I slap y'all mothafuckas like y'all little kids in kindegarten

I slap y'all mothafuckas like y'all

little kids in kindegarten

Squeeze yo' head till yo' kidneys harden

Now watch this, I'ma call my whole mothafuckin squadron

And tell niggaz to just start robbin

[Movie Sample]

The four horsemen of the apocalypse are among the bible's

most terrifying figures.

[Killah Priest]

Cuz y'all niggaz is fucked up

and Brooklyn niggaz is really ready to get ya

I know how to hit ya, and cut ya open

But don't worry, cuz I'ma stitch ya, with a rusty screwdriver

But don't worry, cuz I'ma stitch ya

With a rusty screwdriver

[Chorus: Killah Priest]

[Chorus x2: Killah Priest]

Niggaz bop yo' heads to this, real shit

Call up yo' clicks to this, it's realness

Call up yo' cliques to this, it's realness

You feel this in yo' streets and village

Spare that new shit, Priest killed it

Y! Niggaz bop yo' heads to this, real shit

Call up yo' clicks to this, it's realness

You feel this in yo' streets and village

Spare that new shit, 'bus killed it

[Canibus]

Yo, yo, yo

Yo I'm a Macabeast MC and I possess the ability

To run at top speed without bendin my knees

I destory shit, pin-point asteroids in orbit

I destory shit...

Then, hurl niggaz thousands of miles an hour, towards it

Fuckin heathen, wrap my hands around ya neck region

[Movie Sample]

The fourth horsemen is the most frightening of them all.

[Canibus]

...wrap my hands around ya neck region

Then I start squeezin 'til ya stop breathin

You weaklins is playin tug-of-war wit ya tongues

I knock the teeth out ya gums and suck the breeze out ya lungs

I knock the teeth out ya gums and

suck the breeze out ya lungs

Hit ya wit a blow your physical frame could never sustain

You'll probably never walk ever again

Nigga, you think you rhyme sick? I leave you lyin stiff

Pull you behind my horse til I break ya spine, bitch

Stop cryin bitch, before I hit ya wit the Iron, bitch

Stop cryin bitch, before I hit ya wit the Iron Fist

You can't rhyme bitch, the one triple nine's mine bitch

The pain'll make ya voice change octaves

>From low-pitched to high-pitched,

every hour we kill a hostage

We judge MC's by they lyrical fitness

And punish DJ's for puttin corny stickers on they mixes

Smack the stripper bitches for askin for

our autograph and pictures

You'll be scared to leave the club wit us

You scratch my back, I'll scratch your's bitch

You stratch my back, I'll scratch your's bitch

I'll eat ya salt-fish, if ya suck my sausage

I got an atomic sub, armed wit a sub-atomic scud

Ready to spill ya crimson-colored blood

The four horsemen on the back of four quadropeds

Puttin four hoof prints on ya foreheads, mothafuckas!

(There it is!) So bop ya heads to that, uh (There it is!)

*horses neighing*

[Chorus]

[Outro: Killah Priest]

Fuckin pussy emcee's, gon' get a shot in the eye

Y'all niggaz talk behind nigga's backs

Y'all niggaz better bop ya mothafuckin

heads before we blow it off

Ya fuckin perfume missin idiots

Y'all niggaz always runnin, go run and tell that

Go on, runnin, run behind somebody's back

Run and tell that and take these fuckin slugs wit ya

We gon' get ya mothafuckin clown

Yea...

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