[Intro: Dom Pachino]
Playtime's over...
And you a (*##$ $$# ^!$$%...

For real... fam this, fam that...
Ban that... ^!$$% please...


[Dom Pachino]
Aiyo, the truth is, these ^!$$%s is ruthless
Keep guns in they gooses, like razor blade convicts, I'm goofing

You snoozing, you losing, I came to this conclusion
The streets keep it moving
You stand still, or wait for no man to get his weight up

It's like your first day up north, your face is getting ate up
Buck fifty smile, you think you look good cut, come on, man...
You call that keeping it real? I call my pretty face, guarding my grill

You get locked, you starting squeal
Eating ya face, you starting to kneel
Bow to the king, young prince... yo..


[Chorus 2X: Dom Pachino]
If words could kill, you would be dead

If these lyrics was bullets that be loaded in my head
And my head was the clip, my mouth was the barrel
I'd spit this %#@! at you, til you laying in the gravel


[Dom Pachino]
If words could kill, you would be dead

But they can't, that's why I got the snub to ya head
I'm bout to rock you to sleep, make a child go to bed
Infrared all at your head, I remember doing business with the dred

In the heart of the Bed-Stuy, do or die, who am I?
Dom P., from the Killarmy
Remember back, when I used to drop bombs continently

Ain't nothing changed, same thing, different day
No image to potray, I'm just real


[Chorus 3X]

[Dom Pachino]

I bust them things, plus I still kick them fly $$# verses
From '96 to 2-04, leaving $$#es in herses
You blast, if you move first, who get blasted the worsest?

Dom P., who would of thought I'd get cash from my verses
I remember when I used to get my cash snatching purses
Cop a slice of pizza, then, smoke a bag and be nervous

I remember when I used to think that rapping was worthless
Now I can't stop, it seem like it's a bad $$# curse
I got a fetish for it, like I do a bad $$# nurse

I had to realize, I had to put the business first
It's only natural, to come up with an ill $$# verse
But only right, to get the current, forward is first

%#@!'s real when you got babies, three albums, still in the projects
It ain't gravy, it's like slavery, Dom P., is like the navy
From underwater to the top of the charts, with no maybes


[Chorus 3X]