[Killah Priest]
The Democrats never came to my lab or visit my schools
Not cool, I showed up with street dudes to funerals
Can't name a politician I ever took a flick with
Just reminiscing skeptics leave it or accept it
Just listen; president never checked my report card
Television screen keep flashing the sports car
At 16 the rappers on my wall inspired me to floss hard
The newspaper blowing in the wind over the courtyard
Just one more day written on the face of that cross guard
Lil shorties give each other dap
The same time drug dealers reaching for their gat
The same time the fiend head steam up his crack
The same time the lil girl leans on her back
It's just a vine virtues thru the crime hurdles
Sacred topic when I drop it, this is Crop Circles

I use to look at magazines and rap teams, they had millions
Thoughts came to me by the zillions
What if I had that cash?
I probably built a spacecraft made of gold and windows with stained glass
Or recover Christ bones, turn my hood into Rome
Parades every other day, I turn my bed into a throne
But this what happened, a few cats while I was rapping
Knew I had the law of attraction, towards broads I was a magnet
They were frauds, plus I had my own fashion
I was flashing, fellas got jealous
Instead of them seeing my record in plastic
They rather see me wrecked in a casket
Told me if I got rich that would be it
I redesigned the hieroglyph, tried to outlaw the microchip
Try to buy a mothership, loving it
I bring Michael Jackson back
But this time with the diamond in his lap
Getting tattoos, cursing in his interviews
Blowing purple, just don't stop
The wisdom I drop just call the Crop Circles
Peanut butter and jelly, because knuckles and scully
Blame the president, we thought ephedrine was healthy
Jehovah Witness youth at the door
Reagan never cared; he only scared us with nuke and the war
A congresses are convicts, what y'all screwing us for?
I was loose with the jaw; assistance prepared a noose for the poor
Oprah Winfrey never gave us a call
She gives houses away to her audience
What if I'm out in the hall?
Old black man join lodges, young man wear camouflages
Attention to their sergeants, and my sentence is where God is
Essential in my essence, they call 'em the Prophet
But y'all call 'em the artist
Just some virtue, subway train, the Broadway & Myrtle
Look at the seeds grow up into Crop Circles