Dom Pachino Duck Tape
[Islord:]
Aiyo my mind is like a nine, I shoot my thoughts at ya'll
Bitch ass niggas, corny rap niggas
Claiming that ya'll live and shit, but hell no
Cause I do this, kid, through rain, sleet & snow
Yeah, kid, what, I'm just that live
Cause me and Dom P, blacking niggas eyes
So ya'll best to realize the realism
How Islord get down on the rhythm, cause I hit 'em with that -
[Dom Pachino:]
Run up in the game with the duct tape, to the shit ya'll rape
I don't know how much more shit can I take, and f..ck jake
And the fatman too, I bring the gat land through
Turn him into fatman fondu, and this cockerspaniel
My glock handle, too hot to handle
My next drill's left field, to make your next feel vandal
My tech can't stand you, my chips, you better fork them over
Or you be treated like a Hunt for the Red October
I sink ya ship with the flare, from my brother grip
Get smothered quick, for f..cking with me, dick, on some G shit
I see shit in 3D, you won't be shit, and you definitely won't defeat me
I'm so swift, breath of fresh air on the airwaves
Aren't you tired of the same shit you hear every day?
And here we go again, the heat holding, the beat swollen
Just speak golden, his flow's frozen, the whole world knows him
[Islord:]
Since '97, I was rocking ya'll to heaven
With classical material, machine gun funk
Right out your stereo, so here I go, lyrical assassin
Quick to attack, any nigga acting
Like he invincible, and can't get returned to the essence
Kid, you must be stupid, thinking like you adolescent
Like your whole family won't get duct taped
Then get tossed in the lake, somewhere upstate
For f..cking with my plate
