Dom Pachino: Illusions
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Dom Pachino: Illusions
(Intro: Dom Pachino)
Fuck that R&B shit...
I don't wanna hear that shit
Shit, is analog, shut up, nigga
Say, illusions, what what, illusions, I can sing
Is real, fuck that, it's fake
I'm God, fuck that, I'm a devil
You stupid, it's an illusion
Fuck, it's real, baby, I'm Allah, I'm Allah
Aiyo, what up, baby, it's real, yo kill that shit, God-God
Yo, yo, yo
(Chorus: Mateo)
Illusions, makes my fantasy, reality
Illusions, or maybe, my mind playing these tricks on me
Illusions, as my brain, going insane
Illusions, everything I see, turns into a dream
(Dom Pachino)
Time's change, taught the long range, rips your airplanes
Adjust your spaceship, guns with wooden grips & rubber grips
My mind drifts, into the myst, as God exists
Was the first question asked on my list
I dug into the past, dealt with math's of getting that up
So I subtracted it, kid, yo try to adapt to this shit
I'm rugged, the Terrorist, rocks gold nuggets
Crush your whole fucking shit, you're crushed
Could I bumrush, could I come through?
Blow like the wind, kid, stomp on your crew
Ya'll shitty, your whole commitee, you try to fuck with me
Get with me, get-get with me
Get at me dog, I move like that
Black, I'm strapped with the automatic mack
Double dub it, we Digital, Bobby told me that!
Put away the guns, kid, I always come strapped
I'm with it, got with it, shit, on it
Do it, oh! My nigga, he with it
Mateo, he did the R&B shit, on my shit
Baby, girl, let me suck a tit, peace
(Chorus)
(Dom Pachino)
It's war, my father only spoke of it
Ever since he took his first breath
Momma left, she came back in the picture
She birthed me, now I'm here, yo, it's war
Within the body, blood and bed cells
White and red cells, they all fighting together
It gets deeper than that, digital splat
When I come through, hold a gat
It's war, it's war
It's war, as an encore, grenades
Hand grenades, switch blades, rusty screwdrivers
Knives, try to survive in this trife world
Devices, magna vices, this is digital
(Outro: Dom Pachino)
I come through, it's war
Killarmy, I love ya'll niggas
Killa Sin, 9th Prince, Born
Beretta 9, ya'll the same nigga
ShoGun, Islord... what? Bobby Digital
Free, where ya'll be
I love all my niggas, N.Y.C.
Philly, that's where I did this track, baby
You know it, I run all over the globe
I'm global, fuck ya'll niggas
By my album, Tera Iz Him
Terrorist, what, Terrorist shit, that be the name of it
Peace...
Fuck that R&B shit...
I don't wanna hear that shit
Shit, is analog, shut up, nigga
Say, illusions, what what, illusions, I can sing
Is real, fuck that, it's fake
I'm God, fuck that, I'm a devil
You stupid, it's an illusion
Fuck, it's real, baby, I'm Allah, I'm Allah
Aiyo, what up, baby, it's real, yo kill that shit, God-God
Yo, yo, yo
(Chorus: Mateo)
Illusions, makes my fantasy, reality
Illusions, or maybe, my mind playing these tricks on me
Illusions, as my brain, going insane
Illusions, everything I see, turns into a dream
(Dom Pachino)
Time's change, taught the long range, rips your airplanes
Adjust your spaceship, guns with wooden grips & rubber grips
My mind drifts, into the myst, as God exists
Was the first question asked on my list
I dug into the past, dealt with math's of getting that up
So I subtracted it, kid, yo try to adapt to this shit
I'm rugged, the Terrorist, rocks gold nuggets
Crush your whole fucking shit, you're crushed
Could I bumrush, could I come through?
Blow like the wind, kid, stomp on your crew
Ya'll shitty, your whole commitee, you try to fuck with me
Get with me, get-get with me
Get at me dog, I move like that
Black, I'm strapped with the automatic mack
Double dub it, we Digital, Bobby told me that!
Put away the guns, kid, I always come strapped
I'm with it, got with it, shit, on it
Do it, oh! My nigga, he with it
Mateo, he did the R&B shit, on my shit
Baby, girl, let me suck a tit, peace
(Chorus)
(Dom Pachino)
It's war, my father only spoke of it
Ever since he took his first breath
Momma left, she came back in the picture
She birthed me, now I'm here, yo, it's war
Within the body, blood and bed cells
White and red cells, they all fighting together
It gets deeper than that, digital splat
When I come through, hold a gat
It's war, it's war
It's war, as an encore, grenades
Hand grenades, switch blades, rusty screwdrivers
Knives, try to survive in this trife world
Devices, magna vices, this is digital
(Outro: Dom Pachino)
I come through, it's war
Killarmy, I love ya'll niggas
Killa Sin, 9th Prince, Born
Beretta 9, ya'll the same nigga
ShoGun, Islord... what? Bobby Digital
Free, where ya'll be
I love all my niggas, N.Y.C.
Philly, that's where I did this track, baby
You know it, I run all over the globe
I'm global, fuck ya'll niggas
By my album, Tera Iz Him
Terrorist, what, Terrorist shit, that be the name of it
Peace...
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Dom Pachino: Illusions
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Inne teksty wykonawcy
Dom Pachino: Illusions
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Pete Rock / Marley Marl Freestyle
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Problem Child
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Tear Drops
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Time's Calling
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