Chief Kamachi - Show Me Proof lyrics

rate me

Yeah, Kamach I'll-Zaar, Regime

JuJu Mob, Cult Status, kno'm'sain

Mic Messiah, Cult Status

Pull out ya canvas

Let's go at it

By the listeners request I'm here in the flesh

My voice will put an African spear in ya chest

So don't tempt me, black palms slap on the djembe

Perform across the globe with my ritual kente

Feel high like the hills where the Indian men pray

Mach the Messiah, listen what the King say

Pop's in heaven, props where the Jinns stay

Music still nutritious like brown rice and tempeh

So in hell when I serve the resin

It's soul surah, the urban legend

Number one will deserve a seven

Do you get it? I'm on a throne possessed with it

In the zone and a pen in my hand finesse vivid

Capture minds, now I got obsessed critics

It's raw he spit it, oh boy he did

It's the word magician so take the further listen

As I baptize minds like these words were Christian

I'm Supreme! Supreme Deity

Do you wanna go to war, wanna play with me?

Vou tu be dalil

I doubt that you could spit properly fo'real

I shout...

Kamachi the sage of the spoken word page

Here to fight for the freedom of these musical slaves

Captain Crook, I saw the pirate ways

Ghetto Gabri-el stay posted up in the skies for days

These the eyes of a psychic reader

Looks like I just lit the brightest reefer

These jewels that I drop gimme the right to teach her

Many shine but the question is whose light is weaker?

I strong arm with these African fighting features

From the jungles where the war scars mark ya face

I'm the bomb like the Middle Eastern market place

This the song of a warrior that march with grace

And they target me with preschool archery

I'm too electrical, when I'm shining

Let my aura fuck with ya retinal

The gatekeeper of the great African festival

So don't let Kamach cause spectacle

Put dirt on my kingly fabrics, I can't have it

Let my shell shake the cabinet

From the pistol speechless that's elaborate

Represent the children of addicts

Look to them lavish, here with the medical examiners baggage

Yellow tape my music it's madness

Like ghetto gun clashes, CD's sell wherever blood splashes

Crime scene camera flashes

For the rare paint to gush from ya gashes

And this is what they push to the masses

Turn bodies in a ritual ashes

20 a bush, Indian kush, I tint up my glasses

Saifullah! Kamach! I'll-Zaar! It's the Regime!

And y'all just can't pass us!

It's the Messiah! Chief Kamach!

And we live from Philadelphia!

C'mon... !

You're in Good Hands right now

"When life itself seem lunatic, who knows where madness lies?

Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender dreams- this may be madness

To seek treasure where there is only trash. Too much sanity may be madness

And maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be"