Chief Kamachi, DJ TMB - Back 2 the Breaks lyrics

Back in '78, came through the heavenly gates
My mommy make the baby food the hustlers ate
No potatoes and carrots
She kept a knife in my carriage
Had a couple of niggas
But wasn't ready for marriage
She ran the streets in the zone
She was the chasing the jones
Found a couple of needles when
She was taking it home
Put my fists in the walls
Damn near breaking the bone
That's why my heart look dark like
Old straight in the comb
Just see the pain in my eyes
Dope game on the rise
Age 11 see a nigga brains blew in the skies
Got notes in my journal
About the flamin' inferno
A real life movie without the buttery kernels
So I started to rap it
Watched the murderous rackets
Dreams of being a star
Putting fur on the jackets
Hassan gave me a job putting
Coke in the packets
I'm trying to get me a demo
But had a hustler's packet
100 shows in the mirror until
I got my lines right
15 got my first chance at the limelight
First trip to New York
I had them fucking rhymes right
Came back to Philly in a
Limo like it's prom night
Deal on the table
And my homie on the deathbed
Game trying to milk me like
I'm still getting breast fed
Teenager stressed out, turn into a cess head
Ready to kill a nigga or
Paint his whole chest red
Label ain't work out, damn near jerked out
Mind ain't steady
Little Eddie about to murk out
Tears hit the vinyl, energy was primal
Mind of a rhino, Zulu spears hit the spinal
Album sat on the shelf
They abolished the wealth
Older Gods from the city gave
Me knowledge of self
Put my twist on the jewels
With the mystery schools
Knew one day it would come
I would eventually rule

Yeah, back to the breaks
The era of the greats i do it for the love
Not the money that I make
I got what it takes, DJ cutting up the crates
Sucka MCs, sucker punch em in they face

Take em back to the break
The era of the greats i do it for the love
Not the money that I make
I got what it takes, DJ cutting up the crates
Sucka MCs, sucker punch em in they face
Take em back

Just wanted to hear my voice
On a few cassettes
Gold chain and a pair of suede puma sweats
Freestyle on the block, heavy
Is 'Mach ready? Been bother the God the
Religion called rock steady
To the east I pray five rhymes a day
This crooked judge trying to take
All my time away got caught slippin
Trying to sell a dime of yay
Was rotting in a cell but I
Won't let this mind decay
They think my kind astray
I think I'll find a way
Address me as the G-O-D
You looking divine today
Yeah, I'm back dressed in all white
They want me in all black
But baby that's alright
I'm underground cuz they don't
Hear me enough if that's the case then get
To turning your stereos up
A long way from all my Philly block
Clocking herb they doing shows
Mach!