Crooked Angels - Chief Kamachi

Yeah, this that Section-8 Egyptian slang

Mic Messiah

Yo should I do some evil?

Because my whole squad illegal

They want that street shit tell me I’m too cerebral

Take Illmatic mixed with some Beanie Sigel

Islamic flag in a window of a Buick Regal

Niggas ministers hustle from a crack Cathedral

Been on a cross, fell off, snapped the steeple

But who cares if Kingdom Come

Old glass of gin and rum, the sin is done

In life’s lottery, all I wanna win is one

But my record’s in a red

Finger’s still connected to the lead

Put down that one-two checker to ya head

Chief Kamachi known as Osura Ucha Eb

Tryna give you the science and the principals

Kill my body but the spirit is invincible

Hold my own on a soldier throne

Kamalah back to the Vatican exposing Rome

Ayo I’m doing this for crooks with arms

Corner store Priest with their books of charms

And all of the ahki’s that give salam’s

And all the Black magicians that wave their wands

It’s the rap Dikembe

Back in my African kente

80's gold chain rock Sergio Valente

I’m a hustler, ways of the mystics I use

They don’t understand, say I’m contradicting my views

I look the preacher in his eyes

Spit on his shoes, he’s a liar

Who the Messiah?

Nigga sit on the pews

My resurrection pay some unforgettable dudes

It’s so deep, sometimes I gotta spit it in clues

They say I’m crazy, mental, Kamachi is confused

I say I’m Angelic, God-body, how can you choose?

They say I’m drunk off eagle in the booth with the booze

I say I don’t drink, sit up like a King when he rule

Take a stroll around my castle and pick up a jewel

Like it’s an Easter egg hunt in elementary school

Think deep like a building penitentiary tools

Around the globe, they use to see me for centuries rule

Yo, beware when the serpent’s tongue scorched the script

The torture’s lit, I fiend pitchfork your clique

Lord of the crip, skeleton absorbing the grip

An 012 astronaunt forced to strip

You stoneage gangsta old Porsche with a stick

I’m in a lightmobile, deal with a force that is sick

Pharaoh mind, you the soft Christmas carol kind

Mic Messiah, my authentic apparel shine

Bulletproof aura, look at what your arrows find

You should try walking the stairs that the sparrows climb

My pyramids is closed for guest

Why take time to study and expose the rest

Hip-Hopper slash witch doctor of finesse

Gold king Tut coffin when they put me to rest

Frankincense and an Ankh tattoo to my chest

Screaming «Section-8 Egyptian did it the best»

Messiah!!!

Yeah, c’mon

For my crooked angels worldwide

Yeah, Mic Messiah, Chief Kamachi

Yeah, Philadelphia