If Words Could Kill Lyrics & Tabs by Dom Pachino
If Words Could Kill
guitar chords lyrics
Playtime's over...
And you a bitch ass nigga...
For real... fam this, fam that...
Ban that... nigga please...
Aiyo, the truth is, these niggas 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.
You get locked, you starting squeal
Eating ya face, you starting to kneel
Bow to the king, young prince... yo.
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 shit at you, til you laying in the gravel
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
I bust them things, plus I still kick them fly ass s
From '96 to 2-04, leaving asses 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 s
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 ass curse
I got a fetish for it, like I do a bad ass nurse
I had to realize, I had to put the business first
It's only natural, to come up with an ill ass
But only right, to get the current, forward is first
Shit'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
