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Artist: Dom Pachino
Album:  Tera Iz Him 2
Song:   Camo Commando
Typed by: DaSun Akbar

("Full Metal Jacket" sample)
It is your killer instinct which must be harnessed if you expect to
survive in combat.
Your rifle is only a tool. It is a hard heart that kills.
If your killer instincts are not clean and strong you will hesitate at
the moment of truth.
You will not kill.

I'm almost there, don't cry yet
I'm almost there, don't cry yet
I'm almost there
Yo, ayo

(Hook) 2x
The guns, the ammo
The camouflage commando
The soldier, the range
Trained in the muddy terrains
The shows, the tours
The groupies, fans, the whores
You got the answers
Yet the critics tell me what it's all for

[Dom Pachino]
I'm not your role model, nah, I'm not your idol
I'm not your Qu'ran, nigga, nah, I'm not your Bible
I'm not your grandpapi, nigga, I'm homicidal
I was under a bigger rock, a tick off a different clock
Living a market that they never stocked
Grew up in a place that they never shopped
But yet they think they know me
I'm not your dunn, son, friend, I'm not your homie
But I'm an OG, been doing this for quiet some time
Taught them niggas how to bag them rocks and kick rhymes
Alotta cats came up off this Terrorist shit
This non-fiction, and I ain't playing Jedi Mind Tricks
I rhyme sick fam, don't climb up this tree you're a dead kitten
Good riddance, poof be gon', I state my word is bond
To forever rep Napalm, it's my badge and honor
After the smoke clears from the marijuana
And I'm still here; I guarantee I'm on the brink of insanity
Yes, I love my self, you call it vanity
What determines good music, if they scanning me?
That's a crock of shit, alotta legends
Took a lil time, before mothafucka hit

(Hook) 2x

[Dom Pachino]
You couldn't stumble across this much talent cuz I rhyme hard
Just cuz I was raised in a violent
Environment, the kinda place that retire men
And I'm not talking about a place for retirement
But you can get some work on consignment
Where the kids grow up they wanna be lineman
Or a point guard
And the ones that don't make it beyond something I hope I don't get caught guard
Fuck a report card
I'd rather be a rapper or a boxer
To leave ya nose scarred when I jab ya
Or bitch smack ya, elbow ya, maybe stab ya
Latins be known for that shit, and what have you
But don't be acting like my beats don't grab you
My lyrics don't drag you, my flow don't have you
In a frenzy with a black guy like Spud McKenzie
I'm crazy but have the whole game in a frenzy
I'm crazy but have the whole game in a frenzy

(Hook) 2x

Nah'mean, y'all know this is real music right here, man
Keep fronting man, don't front on yourself
Don't lie to yourself
Be original, man, have your own mind
You see your man fronting let him know
Don't be on yes man shit, uh-huh, ok
And you know the truth nigga
Speak what you feel