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(Chorus) 2x |
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I wonder what people expect to see? |
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Real Hip-Hop do it till is the death of me |
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It's not my time on the Clock of Destiny |
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Long as I'm real then I did it successfully |
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[Chief Kamachi] |
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Ayo, the mic is done, early 90's when my hype begun |
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Bullseye, AK-47 the rifle lung |
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Ten years later, still stepping the cipher, son |
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I'm here; underground legend is what the cycle brung |
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Classic, murder material on the four track |
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Old school, wheels of steel keeping the four pack |
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Late night, gang war niggas getting their jaw cracked |
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Hundred dollar talent show, spitting the raw rap |
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Give me a mic and a red Philly ball cap |
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First demo tape in the trash, not a call back |
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I kept it moving cuz I knew I would break free |
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Back in the studio, get ready for take three |
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Gorilla on a mic, little Mach was a straight G |
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First deal at fifteen, never Christine |
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Write a rhyme for a Benz, make the wrist gleam |
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Niggas in the street ______ I hear the strip CREAM |
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(Chorus) 2x |
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[Chief Kamachi] |
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Yo, I see a big future in music |
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Hope I got the right mirror |
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Came up in the Nike era |
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Tryna be a mic terror |
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'Follow the Leader' dropped album was a light-bearer |
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Studied the game, got the slang and my sight clearer |
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Poster of MC Lyte, I use to write Mira |
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Ponder my musical genre, its quiet rarer |
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So I fall back, look at the mall rap |
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Album ain't sell, people know that I'm all that |
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Was once told my career would suffer a curse by an Old Ghost |
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While he was smoking a dust in a hearse |
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Been around the globe couple times crushing a verse |
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Fairly unknown, people still in love with the worst |
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Back to trance, small ass rap advance |
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They wanna see little Sambo tap and dance |
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I'm like Tucson teaming up with blacks in France |
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Kamachi! Stealing that ______________ |
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(Chorus) 2x |
