Artist: Dr. Ama f/ King Just Album: Sex, Crime & Audiotape Song: Sound of Pain Typed by: Cno Evil [Dr. Ama] Ain't nothing like a war to get ya blood up, blood in Blood out, running, guns out, get ins Come out, twenty inch spun out, we out nigga Chicken at the victory, and digging some buns out 7 O.D. the elite regal, eagle eye Locked in the pace, race wit the speeds of a sequel taste Pain is all my people taste, we chained in a secret place Set war like no man can, there's no equal race [Chorus: sample (Dr. Ama)] Ah ha (ah ha) ah ha ah ha That's the sound of pain (stained like acid rain) Ah ha (ah ha) ah ha ah ha That's the sound of pain (please weed, ease the pain) [King Just] He who laughs last, last laughs the best It ain't funny when we start running up in your rest Your vest won't help you, Staten boys Bellevue That's them dudes who pop shit, oh, they ain't tell you? They call me Human Torch, nigga, my darts'll melt you And have you intoxicated just like LQ That raw Cadillac at you, ugly duckling They thought he would grow up to be nothing He was something to watch, essential to hip hop They call him Father Time, cuz he worked around the clock Non stop, cuz he earned his spot Ya'll niggas in trouble since I hooked with Ama Doc Mr. Orvelle Ghetto Glock, I'mma make sure it pop I ain't Snoop or Pharrell but I drop it like it's hot On the block, fuck the cops, we the Stones like The Rock Park Hill, ma leak a deal, nigga holla at me ack [Chorus] [Dr. Ama] Dr. Ama, won't hesitate to let the HK or AK spray Committee, S.I.C. we be, Staten Island Criminals Residuals we chase, exchange grands for papes S.I.N.Y., we replaced man with apes It's evident, Stapleton, New York, be the resident My sons got guns big enough to drop an elephant We elect dead presidents when we vote Fuck George Bush, only bush we hail is the smoke Thou provoke, if not, we joke, if not, throw shots Promote the glock, give 'em bigger holes than an open twat Dubs love it, open, deep throat and cock Gangsta swag, fake thugs, you a wanksta fag Staten Island got more grain than sanka have Hop up in the plush trucks, hit the club, plus must Bitches lust us, snitches scared to discuss us [Chorus]