Lyrics Kamalah - Chief Kamachi

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