Swollen Members
Swollen Members - Cross Fire lyrics
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(feat. Talib Kweli) [Blacksmith] SMAS You already know: You ain't gotta a right to be talking outside of your mouth You ain't tight and shouldn't utter a word Your arts absolutely absurd I'm precise and you can't compare to me and shine dead right Get ready to be turned you into food for fishes And leave behind upset crying senior citizens Crying on the shit again Shotgun Charlemagne The boss still open souled drink with a steady hand It's all free No need for membership Premium businessmen believe me it's blacksmith Talk smack and I'll castrate you with a battle axe Swell up your membrane Then kick a battle rap [Talib Kweli] You lost your voice and Come down with battleaxe That ain't real rap You're broke back with your saddle axe SAS klack-klack-klack Bodies in a black bag Thinking about the punk rock shit like Black Flag Operation Ivy with the poison in the ink well Punchline screw your face up like a steak smell Plots so funky Got your nose runny like blow junkie Blacksmith people never go hungry Rappers flow so crummy I get the sisters and the snow bunnies buyin' up the tickets Give us your money Oh for sure money It's the gentlemen Charm rapping rotten pieces like an attack on Eminem Star wars steady its a classic Light up backward and then Ash it before you pass it You know how to hash get On the side where the greener grass is Gotta up on the shape glasses Niggas get blasted Handing out cash's And caskets gotta bake bread like the basket Bastards! Rappers can't outlast the masters Press it up and spin up the waxes Put the needle on the plastic Blacksmith Roll another blunt for these actors Cuz imma put fear in the factor Clack ya Agony! Niggas gotta pay for the ecstasy Especially when I cook it up with the cocaine [Young Tre] Battleaxe heavy We stack Betty on rapid So much coke on my track remind of Aspen 2 white bitches they alkaseltzer and aspirin Rolls rolls outlastin' KC niggas slash and mister murder every tray Not a rap democrat More like rapublican Rap rap como sta? Money keep comin in Only time I had my back was who had love for em You ain't no love for em You ain't no love for em I'm running up and dumpin' em Poppin' em and truckin' em Only gets em mad I'm younger than Donald Trumpin' em Getting em made In a sense ridiculous and not really stoppin' em Basically from LA We take game like really Do a show and grab some hoes and take em to tele Young Tre nice I'm the youngest in charge Nigga violate our squad you meeting the law [Prevail] Check my battleaxe Just like a Wu-Tang sword I run the blade against your throat like you was Harrison Ford You girl got'em, worldwide I've been to Paris on tour From the Eifel tower my rifle power make you contort This is a contact sport No coaches or referees Im hotter than Cali's death valley bolders and bleach My posse cut up I chop it up like I was a butcher and beef Boondocks ain't my boombox Beats like a priest