Ambo Kaleef

Grab a match and tackle To strike a pad with a vengeance I'm burning bridges for killing Not feeling so copacetic Toss your bitch a bone 'til I fetch it, she don't get it but These dogs ain't loyal; give me some credit How you gon' act when your challenge is speak You used to whisper them words behind your back like a thief Your girl, I pipe up quick and I lay that pipe down deep These rats, running around telling all of your secrets Slip gin into a tea cup Thick thighs, big lips, rocking the c-cup Fingering the rim of her mug and I got her nervous Afraid of ending up another girl from his verses Curses, hearses, loom on the poems it seems Because it hurts to lose 'fore a chance is deemed Viable and diabolical, the plan's been seen By any anyone who ain't been touched by some cold bitch schemes, it seems Seen the competition Here to stiffen 'em Take a pint of gin of the chin; I'm a kid again Passin' out, crave a bit of oestrogen Vision in the winter but I couldn't trust the mescaline Sticky mess of pheromones the self control is wearing thin Love sick; I couldn't find the medics for the medicine Ah, Love sick I couldn't find the medics for the, ah Off the oesophagus off the NOS on your oculus Narrow avoided the knowledge the sicko spitting like cholera Pockets full of the poverty Probably as broke as your promises Follow trails of roaches and Dutch and find where the scholar is Ambo leaf and a bag of Camo Keep a hand on your mandible Crushing mics like an animal Can afford to be gambling, tampering with your tampon Gramophone fucking up, I'll be back with some more ammo