Artist: Dom Pachino f/ Just Da Barber Album: Tera Iz Him 2 Song: 100 Percent Typed by: Cno Evil [Dom Pachino] Just tell me who's better than, this military lyrical veteran It's guaranteed that this year, nigga, we gon' get it in From here to El Paso, I be swinging my laso I rise and gon' keep it a hundred, don't give me no hassle Quit being an asshole, I'm so tired and fake I play the role like Mel Carter, nigga, give me a break I'm hot, like a bitch in spring break I'm hot, like the young new nigga Drake, but on an underground for goodness sake I'm a lot more dirty, baby, let's take a mud bath I'm fly like when the skuds blast, don't give me no riff raff Please take a seat, and gather around And come listen to the Terrorist sound This is Napalm music, know how we get down On the day to day, you bitches wanna play today? I'm a fresh thing, like a Gatorade, please take a sip And tell me how you like the taste of this Terrorist shit? [Chorus: Just Da Barber] Don't don't dare try to fuck with this music That rude shit, that make you pop off quick Niggas I went to school with be packing a tool wit Jump in a cool whip, just to blast off quick Taking nothing less, then a hundred percent I'm taking nothing less, than a hundred percent, nigga [Dom Pachino] You know the kid's back to raise my value like valuum I had an epiphany, in the sauna with my pad and my towel Let's raise caine, shit on the game, I move a vowel I shoot my raps like an arrow, off the bow with pharaoh Yo, where you been, P, last spotted in a black beemer Interior, send 'em and sprinkle the team with farina Women say I clean the relics, just with Noxyema She cracked a smile on the face, once she seen my ice gleam up Let's get your mind off my peanuts I got a pre-nub, accounts come tight Cock harder than a tree stump, and that's all you get aight? I got a stick-up mentality If you caught me in '96, I got a stick-up man salary Dom pop a nigga from the gun bust academy A graduate with plans to live lavishly Terrorist bring the pain, I raise 'caine on you savages [Chorus] [Dom Pachino] Raise 'caine like a coke price, my lyrics like Crack dope ice, emphidemes, extra C's, special K, crystal meth If you listen to them loud, you might end up deaf I dice you up like a chef We decide to stay hard, since there's no more left It's like there's only club music What happened to that true New York thug music, that started this shit It's like it's gone and the next, leave retardly sick But we the last of a dying breed, when the game's in a dyer need My real soldiers please vow for me As we start this campaign, and bring back the origin From where this hip hop came, nigga