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