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Artist: Swollen Members f/ Strong Arm Steady, Talib Kweli
Album:  Armed to the Teeth
Song:   Cross Fire
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

S.M., S.A.S., you already know what it is
Tell 'em baby

You ain't got the right to be talkin out the side of your mouth
You ain't tight, you shouldn't utter a word
Your art's absolutely absurd; I'm precise
You, can't compare to me your shine ain't that bright
Yeah, think I better turn you into food for fishes, and
leave behind upset cryin senior citizens
Cryin on that shit again, shotgun Charlemagne
The bar's still open so drink with the Steady gang
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]
Hey~! Get off your high horse come down to where the battle at
That ain't real rap you +Brokeback+, where your saddle at?
S.A.S. klack-klack-klack, your body's in the black bag
Thinkin on some punk rock shit like Black Flag
Operation Ivy with the poison in the ink well
Punchline screw your face up like a stank smell
Kweli so funky, got your nose runny like a blow junkie
Blacksmith, my people never go hungry
You rappers flow so crummy; I get the sisters and the snowbunnies
buyin up the tickets gettin show money
Oh fo' sho' Money, it's the gentlemen charmed
Rappers rot in pieces like the tat on Eminem's arm

[Phil Da Agony]
Strong Arm Steady the brand, the classic
Light up a backwood and then, ash it before you pass it
You know how the hash get, on the side where the greener grass is
Gotta throw on your stunna shade glasses
Niggaz get blasted I'm handin out cashes
and caskets, gotta break bread like a basket
You bastards! Rappers can't outlast the masters
Press it up on wax and spin the needle on the plastic
Blacksmith, roll another blunt for these actors
Cause I'ma put the +Fear+ in the +Factor+ and clack ya
Agony! Niggaz gotta pay for the ecstasy
Especially, when I'm cookin up another recipe

Battle Axe heavy, we stack fetty off rapid
So much coke on my track remind of Aspen
Two white bitches they Alka Seltzer and aspirin
Blunt roll swell the room, boom's outlastic
K.C. niggaz slash just to murder every tracl
Not a rap Democrat, more like Trap-publican
Rap trap, count a stack, money keep comin in
Only cock the hammer back for those who got no love for that
You ain't got no love for him; you ain't got no love for him?
I'm runnin up and dumpin 'em, poppin 'em and trunkin 'em
Only gets us mad I'm young and I'm Donald Trumpin 'em
Business sense ridiculous I'm literally stompin 'em
Van Cit to L.A., we kick game like Pele
Do a show, grab some hoes, and take her to the telly
Young Tre nice, I'm the youngest in charge
Nigga violate our squad you'll be needin the law

+Protect Ya Neck+ my Battle Axe is like a Wu-Tang sword
I run the blade against your throat like you was Harrison Ford
Your girl got 'em worldwide I've been to Paris on tour
From the Eiffel Tower my rifle power make you contort
This is a contact sport, no coaches or referees
I'm hotter than Cali's Death Valley vultures and fleas
A posse cut, I chop it up like I was butcherin beef
A Boondocks saved my boombox beats like a priest