Love 4 the Craft

[Chief Kamachi] Each word I spit sparklin' glow Kamachi street shaman, remarkable flow Rebellious, rowdy saints put a part in ya fro Blood on the turntables, AK assaultin' the show I'm from the 70's, gang war heavenly blow The same block old pops sell beverely snow Crush groove in my heart, the culture I know I'm the same A capella ____ whereva I go I'm underground my sounds in the ghettos overseas Love a Rakim voice, Brand Nubians steez Bring that 90's rap back, who want it wit these? The thriller, straight from Philla, Ali of emcees JuJu Mob, scatter magic dust in the breeze Catch the vapors, instantaenous death if you breathe Broad Street the bodies in back roads in Belize They want the prize, one look at my eyes then they freeze (Hook) 2x I got 'Love 4 the Craft' for my spirit to be reputed It's a reason why I do this and why I persue this I got 'Love 4 the Craft' and if you don't true this That's how we seperate the real from intruders [Chief Kamachi] Yo it's Chief Kamachi, one of the wildest ock's I go to vote leave a bomb in the ballot box When I'm dead they think that the terror stops But each word is like a seed from the rarest crops Minds blossom and grow when you hear it rock Bless you like the father you submit to in prayer Granddaddy of that half street spiritual sphere I know I'm nothin' like the way you had envisioned me there When my light shine come thru like the beautiful air When I write rhymes nothin' you can do to compare Take it back like my Queen puttin' braids in my hair On the motherland brother man this is the jam of the year I'm on the throne holmes you tryna put ya hands on the chair I got the fire to lead and a murderous glare Give the world what they need before my grave site is clear And I ascend to Angels wit my family that care (Hook) 2x [Chief Kamachi] Kamach Bolivian rock in the booth wit the wake I spit the block, all I know is the stoupe and the crate I got seven questions for God - seven spooks at the gate While seven kids can't even put their tooth in the cake Mommy sacrifice for that little bit of loot that she scraped Left the world before she heard my first group on the tape The pain is in the music I make, so ruthless and great Black roses around the evil of state Candles burn in the windows what I reveal at the gates It's the ghost of old Kunta, death drum on the waist Warrrior paint on my face, spears thru ya ears I don't know if you can hear dirt cover ya face Trumpets blow, Undertakers dumpin' slow Hell's crowded but Heaven got extra bunks I know It's deadly, OD on the medley Pump the flow, make the whole US drug consumption grow, yo (Hook) 2x