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chief kamachi - grill cheese lyrics

when the dj sing calls, everybody hear the drum stop
that’s the error where all the cl-ssical tunes drop
workin’ on that slave ship, punching on that c–n clock
tryna scr-pe some money, don’t forget yo f-ckin’ boombox
fresh pair of timbalands, that’s how all the goons rock
couple got rich of of baking soda and moon tops
no monk in the cr-p game, tryna rig a rap game
now i rock the show and put the purpose back for back pain
triple fat goose, gazelles with the black frame
i’m old-school, n-gg-, you laughin’ at my fat chain
cl-t form, pit form, nothin’ the common puddle
raised off of four hotdogs and roman noodles
chief kamachi, for philly raised and bread
let the bullet from my sucka n-gg- grind yo head
more than 15 years, check the temperature
mixture of beebis eagle, black th-rn and last zipper rag

(hook x2)
real g’s, i need a loaf of bread
dirty fire, bread with b-tter
it’s the music from the gutter

- chief kamachi lyrics

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