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