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Текст песни Dom PaChino (P.R. Terrorist) f Black Fir - My Right Hand

Dom PaChino (P.R. Terrorist) f Black Fir - My Right Hand слова песни

[sample]Hey Leroy (what?) Your mama, is callin` you man[Intro: P.R. Terrorist]You better find out what the fuck she wants, sonTerrorist is in town, you know how we get down, sonYa`ll niggaz play too many games with me... yeah[P.R. Terrorist]Melodic tunes, bangin` off walls and mic roomsExcite goons, with my mental excite, provide the boomWrite all night in my cacoon, til I hatchAn awful moon, well awaited by my fans, the album is coming soonAbnormal birth, never spent no time in the wombTrees and liquor confumed, til my names in the tombAutograph signed, with the imprint, I`m hard to findWouldn`t even fake my death, I got way too much shit on my mindLast night`s crime, how it went down, no one aroundHad the silencer to muffle the sound, a culture poundShit was ugly, my brand new Jordan`s was lookin` muddyThat`s what happens to fake niggaz, posin` like they my buddiesWhat a snitch, I put the cat on to gettin` richHis whole dress code, slang that he use, to bag a bitchWas fathered by me, gave him knowledge to know, and I succedeShit for what it is, but trick knowledge was used against meNow he`s left in the cold, like arms lookin` for sleevesOn the witness stand, singin` `nigga please`You was my nigga, now my sweaty finger on the triggerI remember, all the shit, we`ve been through togetherNow it`s over, too bad you signing off soldier, I`m outYa`ll niggaz is snakes just like a cobra[Chorus 3X: P.R. Terrorist]You my right hand, my nigga who fights back to backWhen the shit`s on, make it out safe, split all the stacks[P.R. Terrorist] (Black Fire)When you bustin` shots out the window, who drove the Ac`?(When you was pattin` niggaz down with the mac, who watched your back?)When I was on the block countin` the stack, who cooked the crack?My right hand, my right hand, my right hand, my right hand[Chorus 3X][Black Fire]I spend nights, rest in Al Pacino`s cribLayin` on the living room floor, hurtin` up ribsTossin` and turnin`, thinkin` of this bitch I was burnin`She wasn`t learnin`, not enough money I`m earnin`[P.R. Terrorist]Yo, get off the floor, if you wanna earn somethin`Stop frontin`, nigga, money don`t grow on treesThat`s why I keep my nine millennium, hooked under my sleevePlus momma always said, the`ll be days like theseThat`s why, we robbin` still, stickin` up kids for they cheese[Black Fire]Love burglars, crooks tooks it in the N.Y.CTwo the hardway, just about the sickest M.C.`s[P.R. Terrorist]In your continent, in your state, in your cityInternational, nationwide publicityMe and my right hand, millionaire simplicity[Chorus 3X][P.R. Terrorist]You was my right hand, til you broke the code of silenceNow I`m left with no choice, gotta resort to violenceHeat out, mud of my feet, I heard the sirensJetted off, ran out of breath, drunk from a hydrantPoison blew, I got guns too, let`s start the firingSo I can really see, where`s your heartGet blows, story told, watch me rip `em apartYou ain`t that smart, act like you mastered the artOf Tera Iz Him, but yet, there`s one lesson to learnIf you go against the God, and Black Fire, you burn[Outro: Black Fire]PaChino, thou shall never betrayI`ll shall slay, any enemy that`s headed your wayWord..

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Dom PaChino (P.R. Terrorist) f Black Fir - My Right Hand
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