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[Intro: P.R. Terrorist] Shake 'em down, Mathematics Terrorist, yeah [Chorus x2: P.R. Terrorist] All you players, killers, dogs, wannabee thugs In your body comin' soon is a wannabee slug In this rap shit is real so I gotta really be bug To show y'all fake motherfuckers love [P.R. Terrorist] You happy just to breathe oxygen Ox and men, ox is friend And the rest of them niggaz that's in the pen I'm standin' in What's a thug? Fuckin' thug, y'all niggaz ain't really bug When this shit hit the fan, y'all hope'll be thug Out in the desert, rap wizard, stylistic Check the statistics on my LP's You see me on the streets, mark of the beast .44 slugs rip through your fleece, they hold grease Next tape, trapped on the Shao', there's no escape No bridge, no boat, just a place for your throat Surrounded by water, transmit the blood of manslaughter This gold-diggin' bitch on my dick, I can't abort her Plus it's cheaper, and the skins is deeper on her daughter Splashin' 'em both, got it taped on camcorder SongtexteWhat it like, I be eatin' too much beats and rice Rollin' dice, never thinkin' twice, shit is trife Terrorizin', never surprisin' the mic device [gunshots] Maricon! [Chorus x3] [P.R Terrorist] Real niggaz give it up, fake niggaz they get it tooken I'm on a long trip on my way to Central Bookin' 2 Heaterz that was found in my Jeep, Eastside of Crooklyn When I hit the house, everybody's lookin' At the Latino, who that? Dom PaChino Killarmy rap style that's so raunchy Test me, remember that Allah done blessed me Even the Jakes tried fuckin' me up when they arrest me Can't take my mind from me although you got my 9's from me And know my seed that be growin' in my wiz tummy O.T., makin' CREAM, dress bummy Feds like niggaz who floss and flash money But I'm low-key, bless you with a flow that's holy Ain't dependin' on a record label to blow me It's on me, Terra Iz Him: The LP G.O.D., try seein', the light be set free [Chorus x4] [Outro: P.R. Terrorist] Wannabee, word Killarm' You ain't thugs Maricons.. [screaming] Come on.. [gunshots] You wanna fuck with me!?! Huh? [screaming and gunshots continue] I'll kill all you motherfuckers! That's all you got? Come on! I'm Dom PaChino! [Movie sample] Come on! Let's go! I'll fuckin' blow your head off! Come on! Let's go! See this? You boys are dead And not just dead Bring your boy Dallas, he fuckin' dead too Gold-diggers, you tipped it I ain't fuckin' do this! Fuckin' friends! We fuckin' grew up together! You mothafucka! You want a war with me? You want a fuckin' war with me?!?! Aus Songtexte Mania