Artist: Dom Pachino Album: 1st Blood Song: Mic's Down Typed by: Cno Evil [Intro: Dom Pachino] S.I.N.Y., yeah [Chorus 2X: Dom Pachino] You hear that tight sound, put your mic's down You are fucking with the realest niggas right now We got the street support, watch us leave the court They turn us loose, cuz our lawyer's a beast in court [Dom Pachino] Watch how I slide out the courtyard, and hop in the sportscar I can't prove how I make these funds, that's not my fault, ya'll In my passenger seat, is a fashion freak Un pocito Engle', but she don't have to speak Got a rack like Mariah, after the boob job Have my balls swimmin' in saliva, like a pool, pa I hustle, but my zone ain't free like a school yard Gotta get my weight up, nigga, pay my dues, hard Let me introduce you, to the Goon Squad Paco Hacito Cito, leave ya food scarred Have you doomed, buried, where's ya tombs, God? [Chorus 2X] [Dom Pachino] Yeah, you don't wanna turn us loose You don't wanna let us go, we might fuck up you flow You fucking with a real pro, Napalm general Dom Pachino, I keep killing these tracks That's how I creep through, I make the track lethal I make the track make the people, bump and jump And throw they hands up, when they see us in the concert We don't gotta make pop music to make you bop Nigga, I'm back on my shit Come the The Pillage, you can visit my projects and shit And see where I come from, see what I've been through See I'm a rebel, and I'm back on the muthafuckin' treble And the muthafuckin' bass, giving ya'll a taste Of that Staten Island shit, it's hot You should rock sunscreen, little bitch... [Chorus 2X]