Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Kamalah , by - Chief Kamachi. Release date: 07.06.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Kamalah |
| Dark path I folla' |
| Ritual of Kamalah |
| The same scholar |
| Candle still burning the squalor |
| Divine styler |
| Ruby sent from collar |
| Burning bush, Hindu kush |
| The smell of masala |
| Growler, two assassins Karim &Attala |
| In the Mosque giving gun da’wah |
| Steel Umbrella, stroll thru a sun shower |
| It’s the hell on Earth hour |
| You know His powers |
| Spliff from a lotus flower |
| Do it till death |
| Africa to Okinawa |
| Master builders, 720 the focus hours |
| Math precise, the storm that broke towers |
| I’ll be here for 400 years like the Sufi Bawa |
| My higher, it’s the life of the Mic Messiah |
| Street friar, half Jesus, half Richard Pryor |
| Bloody beef is what the teeth of a Pit desire |
| Take 'em back to the strip with a clip to fire |
| Yeah… |
| Kamalah, rap scholar |
| Around the globe, you still hearing my name |
| Kamalah |
| See the seven crosses dangle from my herringbone chain |
| Yeah… yeah… |
| I still spit street Kabbalah |
| Tryna reach Kavala |
| Holes in the dirt |
| The Earth needs souls to swollow |
| Scope and prowlers |
| Lion paws, choke koalas |
| Hustlers holla |
| Spiritual dope and dollars |
| Mala, whiskey sour |
| Beans and maca with my Queen |
| Front row Egyptian opera |
| Schwoogie shocker |
| Pimp smack all your chakras |
| Holy rockers, Hindu pop-n-lock'as |
| Body droppers, bang out tanks and choppers |
| Case of flow might bring shanks and rastas |
| Black Italian, J. Gotti place a poster |
| Rap imposter, Dynamite pack they cost us |
| Are you the next musical Hoffa? |
| Blood spilled dark red just like Cherokee Jaffa |
| Nothing to it, Kamachi just do it to prosper |
| Team death, take ya start on a spot on the roster |
| Yeah… |
| Yeah… yeah… I am terror |
| The crooked angel stand nearer |
| Kamachi rap Yeshua Ben Pandira |
| You take a bell from the Glen Eira |
| Blind mohawk, skinny jean Rogan in your man mirror |
| Body is in the Holy Land |
| You can be a sand shore |
| I am a mercenery |
| Understand the plan clearer |
| Tool bearer |
| Old head, mystical jewel wearer |
| School y’all, meditate in back of a poolhall |
| Eye drop the cyclops sipping in school ball |
| Billie Jean tied up in back of a U-Haul |
| Hundred grand, religion scam right outta Utah |
| Don’t poke, scripture that they sniffing is too raw |
| One hit, absorb it all, ready to orbit off |
| Nuclear rap, Russian track, Mikhail Gorbachev |
| Go to hell, bought a blanket, hope the floor is soft |
| Pitchfork, red G-string on the whore that’s tossed |
| Yeah, Kamalah |
| Yeah, Section-8 Egyptian |
| Mic Messiah |
| Chief Kamachi |
| Y’all know what it is |
| JuJu Mob |
| Yeah |
| Clock of Destiny |