(Intro) Chief Kamachi
Yo, yo, let's go
Yeah, uh, yeah, uh
k**ah Priest, Planet Asia
Uh, Chief Kamachi, uh, yeah
[Chief Kamachi]
Ask God if you think I'm committing purgery
I'm one wit the sun, all of his angels work wit me
Rap supernatural
Built from a different circuitry
From Planet Asia, the answer certainly
That's our twist, mystic and the street scene
Levitate thru the hood, trying to make the mist clean
Breathe! Inhale a toxic future
Before you die from cancer
I bet the cops will shoot you
n***as start revolution over 3 bags of dope
Stomachs touch, starring at few bags of hope
Trying to change life thru the few tabs I wrote
When the crafts invoked, spiritual paths provoked
Messiah music, all the ghetto choirs use it
Buddhist Monks, plus Franciscan Friars choose it
Thought the voice of the youth was gone?
Turn up your radio; once again the truth is on
Bloaw!!!
(DJ Rhettmatic scratching)
"You're now in tuned with the illest micro"
"Hold, let it go, set it tho', sweat it"
"Yeah"
"So amazing, field left blazing"
"Some pick up a microphone and can't even achieve this"
"You phony rappers"
"Yeah, time to go"
"We brought the place of hump/hardball"
"Like that"
"A wack n***a rhyming k**s a raw beat"
[k**ah Priest]
I throw Angels in the hells, slap the devil as well
k** myself live on TV so my records could sell
Lock my own self up in jail, swallow the key
It's obviously; my role model is me (me)
I stare at myself, I only care about myself
Love ones around me...but I wear out my health
I only spit rhymes for me to hear
I believe I'm sincere
Rappers beware, only me y'all shall fear
I give myself dap, I love to hear myself rap
Bars are so hot they start to melt the track
Kamachi, Planet A, the canvas is our page
My mind is a .9, the pen is a hand-grenade
(DJ Rhettmatic scratching)
[Planet Asia]
Mosh pitting; I ain't the type to push
Lighting the kush
Bud knife to your face give you the NIKE swoosh
Straight from the temple
Anybody front on these High Priest is looking for a lifetime cripple
Through the pipeline, I stay on the tight grind
And fight crime, recite minds
I write rhymes darker then nighttime
Beat you in the head with a vine
Gold scrolls I'ma roll over and behold
But was told to the blind, we the best out
And yo, check out my next style from NASA manufacture by reptiles
Dig it, I strike with arrow, speak the language of Pharaohs
Camaro smash but rocking military apparel
Son of Cheryl, from a s**m cell outta this world
As the Earth twirls I'm building till my knowledge is thorough
They ask who can top it? The illest n***as you got three...
Planet Asia, k**ah Priest, Chief Kamachi
(DJ Rhettmatic scratching)