Swollen Members - Execution

First Verse [Krondon of Strong Arm Steady]

Recognize realize and visualize
This miracle mind which is mine
Son of a chainsmoker and crack pusher
My family ties lines of cane cookers
From the slums to the streets, the suites of South Beach
The belt’s not far in my reach, rather unique
Yeah my physique comes naturally, and actually
Had a way with words since ’83
Maybe it’s me, or maybe it’s the surgery performed when I speak over beats
It’s a emergency, yeah the young boy got his head bust
Nowadays the gun talk, fuck going head-up
I get fed up and furious
But get relief from relief I receive from the Jewish chick
She stupid rich, buy me boucoup gifts
Like matzah bread, on some bar mitzvah shit
I admit the gang mentality I represent
Serves as a reality check for the intelligent
Some real nigga shit, come follow it

Second Verse [Phil da Agony of Strong Arm Steady]

Living in a mansion flossed out
Chillin at the boss house
Dont fuck around and get tossed out
Like Jazzy Jeff outta Fresh house
Niggas wanna press play, hey we the best out
Niggas always leave the west out
Actin like I can’t buy a house out in down south
Or somewhere on the east coast
Get a grill smile on my mouth like cheese toast
Who the fuck gon’ beast most
Set it up like oscar de la hoya out in East Slopes (?)
Or somewhere on the west side
Where the best born, best die, Bedstuy
Brooklyn, Canada back to the USA
Black hats like NWA
Black gats bringing trouble your way
You know the strong arm steady don’t play
I shift crack like pounds of the yay
Smoke weed like I’m from the bay
Still the most dangerous group coming outta CA
It’s the strong arm steady
Battle Axe Records y’all, y’all not ready, let’s go

Third Verse [Mad Child of Swollen Members]

We ride like violent horses
I leave a pile of corpses
Warlock inside my fortress
I lost a fucking fortune
Yeah, visionary verse developer
Celebrate? I get enough pills to kill a elephant
And that’s relevant
I’m hiding in a dark tent
Pyromaniacs tongue-kissing on a park bench
Utterly I mutter manslaughter with the meat cleaver
Please believe it I breathe heat with deep reverb
Dogtown, Z Boys, Rocksteady b-boys
Redline Levis, plans being revised
Quite tired, I bite tires, a white liar
A drive-byer with five priors, a livewire
Ey, I am some kinda hybrid
Dopest rapper out, but I’m white like rye bread
I’ll get a mohawk, go hard like Clubber Lang
You in trouble mang, like a vampire with rubber fangs
It’s time to get some retribution
Forget a fucking trial we go straight to execution

Fourth Verse [Opio of Hieroglyphics/Souls of Mischief]

Yeah, like you was gambling with the chief head honcho
Not Gandolfini or Tonto
We rock like Weather Report at the Montreax
Casino Jazz Festival caught in different time zones
We know like conventional thought, the triple line though
They infinitesimaly small next to Hiero
Adam to a ant, a wooden match to a canon that I had
When they ran into my pad. Grabbed it from my dad
He said “Respect the power that it wields
Cause a coward will reveal hisself
Strength and character should supersede wealth
And keep your mind clear, you won’t squeal for help.”
I’m out for delph preservation
The elder statesman
Cracking all chastity belts with innovation
Fuck ‘em deep, non-virginal
Terminally ill, personally kill mics
Bust the verbal voodoo hex
Murdering sets like the Colonel
Flew out the cuckoo’s nest with two new Teks
Check-nine-milli, I’m really bout my scrilli
I’m droppin these club bombs til they give me mine, what

Fifth Verse [A-Plus of Swollen Members & Hieroglyphics]

It go, Me broke in this economy? Hell no
Even the recession ain’t affecting them elbows
So we sell those. People be cheefing when they struggle
I’m a beast when I hustle but I keep it on the humble
Try to lay a finger on me, your people are in trouble
I got Usalama(?), my peeps’ll be there on the double
Bipolar so I could flip it any time
And I don’t waste time spending my chips on any dime, I’m
From Oakland, it’s cold there, maybe you known, player
Baby could leave at any moment and I won’t hate ‘er
I’m warm though, and I won’t scorn those
I know she’s coming back like ’70s pornos
So I tag graffiti on her lower back tat
Kick back, relax up at the cul de sac flat
These rappers is eunuchs, they acting, they cooning (?)
My reaction after I slap ‘em, they ruined, had to do it, yeah yeah…