Текст песни Dom PaChino (a.k.a. P.R. Terrorist) - Who`s the Spanish Kid?
Dom PaChino (a.k.a. P.R. Terrorist) - Who`s the Spanish Kid? слова песни
[Intro: Dom PaChino]Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeahUh, loud and clear, yo, yo, yo, yo[Chorus 2X: Dom PaChino]Who`s the Spanish kid, damagin` shit, leave ya in bandagesTera Iz Him, Tera Iz HimYou water heads about to splashed upon the canvasesTera Iz Him, Tera Iz Him[Dom PaChino]Who`s the Spanish Kid? Damagin` shit, leave ya in bandagesYou water heads about to splashed upon the canvasesTalkin` shit, I got my dogs in Los AngelesWe worldwide, a treacherous threat, across the indus`Make a bad muthafucka vanish, we get a genieI be touchin` up, on my Spanish, drinkin` MartiniOn the Island, stone real off the coast of Puerto RicoInstant chico long distance shot, it can be lethal to many peopleFound, thrown in lakes, capture the greatEven found in bed, bloody wit make, it`s all a takeHere`s a football, bounce the ball straight, within` my gymBefore I take a slam-dunk, on ya ass, and break the rimEnd ya shit, when I fuck +Hardcore+ like Lil` KimBattle cat, when I rap, snap tracks just like a penIllegal alien, from planets unknown, let me beginLike the worst verse, smokin` while in ya playpenSix months old, in the projects, stickin` up menRap veteran, don`t even ask why I have no friendsOnly family, I never liked drivin` Toyota Camry`sOnly German cars, Cuban cigars, land in MiamiWit palm trees and pussy, I`m paid, deserve a GrammyFor my lyrics, contribution, is like I`m spiritualBut don`t cross my path, study my math like a ritualThis Spanish individual, blast, career criminalCamouflage posted at large, just like a liberalSigns of all kind, sentences just like a sentinalConvincin` you to pick up the album, and get digital[Chorus 2X][Dom PaChino]Whilin` out in the urban division, rhymin` prismRazor blade collision, cut wit position, in death or prisonFrom a lonely stone, a spiritual clone, whichever knownHad you shook by my voice and my tone, over the phoneHow that cat feel, leavin` that ass wit broken bonesTry to ignore, I`m hard to pass through like kidney stonesWhen I zone, wish I got cop copies from out the domeNigga, I G.T., and try to find ya ass back homeRhymin` cyclone, smoke a fuzzy bone wit CaponeIn his early years, when he had Chicago sownNow I`m blowin` out the water, manslaughter in the first quarterCausin` disorder, to ya tape recorder, track disorderWin the team championship, Tommy LasordaOut of order, snipin` niggaz off roofs like Michael RappaportThen blow port, home fort, in the Port of RichesSunbathe wit naked bitches, Dom PachinoThey call me Scarface without the stitches, without the stitches..[Chorus 3X][Outro: Dom PaChino]Yeah, yeah, Terrorist shitThe arch nemesis, Dom PachinoYeah, yeah, LP shit, niggaWord up, for my real muthafuckasAll my Puerto Rican muthafuckas, knowwhatImean?My real niggaz, not them snake muthafuckas, knowhatimean?Word up..