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