Текст песни Dom PaChino (a.k.a. P.R. Terrorist) - Problem Child
Dom PaChino (a.k.a. P.R. Terrorist) - Problem Child слова песни
[sample repeated throughout the song]"And you can tell what the problem, that boy is going to hell"[Intro: Dom PaChino]Yeah, Tera Iz HimThe shit is real, Problem ChildYo, yo..[Dom PaChino]My first born, birthed from shorty in the next projectChinky eyed, little nigga had to gain his respectSo I bust my gun, sold drugs to they dunnA hard rock, little nigga, runnin` two thirty-oneMade a few kingpin moves, neck rose to pretty paintRock cold in the trail, I`m out of state drinkin` HennyLayin` low in places, and never seen Puerto RicansBitches lovin` my style, cuz it`s slang how I speak itBlow up back to 4th`s studio, burn, smoke a bloomLP comin` soon, first niggaz was cartoonI got touched when the day Christ died, my Earth criedExplotation so high, though his promise to dryAs I laid in the hospital bed, leg full of leadSick thoughts went through my head, eyes blood shot redOn the hall, where my lawyer case ain`t lookin` too goodFake niggaz on my dick, talkin` shit in the hoodRumors that I got merked off, get the story straight, jerk-offA year later, spotted in a Beamer wit my shirt offWildin` out, burgundy doubt, went all outLow profile, chain swingin` heavy when I`m pealin` out[Chorus 2X: Dom PaChino]Peace, be true, deal with thatLeave ya seed and watch ya backWit the jake, avoid contactAnd on the world make a large impactYo, cuz ya`ll can talk all the shit ya`ll wantAnd ya`ll can smoke all the blunts and frontAnd yo, when funds is low at the end of the monthRe-up, and cop the Terrorist shit[Outro: Dom PaChino]Save ya life, wordWhat ya know about problems?And got a big one, knawhatimean?Shout out to my God, word