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about

Collectively orchestrating the best to have ever Gangsta'd the microphone using lyrical metaphoric weaponry.

The rhyme composed here, I wanted to come across as aggressive as the production, to keep the listener connected to the overall samples used.

lyrics

V1. Written by AHKMEL PHAROD


You can call me terrible
but better not call me ivan
it's AHKMEL PHAROD and I'm live when
I pick up the mic and spit that coniving

ill type shit that will drop you dead quick
no reviving
just yellow tape and white chalk for you fakes
that thought you can take my position in the first place

and for the rest of you bitch niggas make haste
before I leave in your moms mouth a bad taste
come get some and wind up misplaced
found up under your crib no emotion no face

stupid muthafuckaz should've none I'm one pace
with the speed of a crook in the hood with no chase
teflon up above and below the waist
to keep niggas off my dick like AIDS

and yes now be very afraid
to feel more heat on that ass then Lebron James
with nowhere to run and I'm to blame
for ashying punk niggaz up with that flame

3rd degree pain
left in vane
found face down
little remains

fragments pulled out
revealed the name
of Brooklyn's Own AHKMEL PHAROD
who holds no shame

no remorse no sympathy just disdain
towards all you muthaphuckaz
not knowing your lane


V2. Written by AHKMEL PHAROD

You can sneak a peak at this
just a little
before I load the clip
and cock back the chrome plated nickle

aiming not to miss
red beam tagin your middle
for looking the longest
nigga I said just a little

now you laying shit
because of how my 4.5th did you
another hole in one punk bitch
for not getting the riddle

AHKS got no compassion
when its time for blasting
Brooklyn's Own easy passing
you fake niggas asking

yankee hat flashing
misreppn your zone I'm attacking
leaving innocent by standing
yelling hey hey hey - what's happening

no surrender no retreat attaching
my life to each bullet your ass be catching
for thinking the look on my face
is from laughing

more or less from everlasting
Muhammad Ali of these streets wrist wrapping
leaving marks on faces that I blacken
from all of the residue gunpowder reaction

once again AHKS got your spirit packing
east west north or south for yapping
and running off at the mouth overreacting
leaving your bitch ass fast asleep nappin

credits

from LYRICAL LAVA - THE ALBUM, released March 1, 2012
This track samples "Who Shot Ya" & "I Tote Guns" by Biggie Smalls, "Cowboys" by the FUGEES, "Many Men" by 50 Cent, "PLO Style" by Method Man, "Shook Ones" by Mobb Deep

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Brooklyn's Own AHKMEL PHAROD New York, New York

I shall let you learn, experience and discover my NATURE, record after record, rhyme after rhyme, as a Kings County Veteran, who's always on HIS GRIND.

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