Double eXXecution Songtext
von Marco Polo

Yeah, real murder and shit
Double execution
What the fuck y′all niggas wanna do?

If you ain't never been to a funeral, you just passed the welcome mat
Wish you would of met Pac, I can help with that
This retarded, chinstrap, real helmet rap
Everybody got bodies, never held a gat
How you melt the wax, you call me
Then bring in Juxxman in the track by M.P.
This ain′t brokeback nigga, this is so crack
Can I get a soul clap? (Bum! Bum!) Ole!

Pop goes my blowzac, blowing, your show's whack
Niggas at the front door demanding they dough back
Fuck is this perpetrator, I'm poking his ribs up
Got my little homies with me, yolkin′ his kids up
It′s a fact I put my hood on the map
You a bitch boy, never put the hood in your rap
I'mma blast the eight, hockey mash the face
Then I take it to Supreme Court and smash the case


It goes skets, burners, hammers, ratchets
Beats, rhymes, hip hop classics
Lava, venom, only one solution
To bring forth the double execution

Yo, Vic Vicious, I murder mics maliciously
Big booty, delicious bitches, pussy in stitches
I be gun-drummin′ 'em, gunnin′ your body down
But they don't want to a barrel so we muffle the shotty sound
Meat loaf your grill, Swiss cheese your back
No lettuce and tomatoes, I turn ′em to Big Macs
With a young veteran, Polo the beat master
Ruste Juxx be that Brooklyn beat-basher

Heat-flasher, I'm cockin' the chrome
I lied, you walk farther, red dot to your dome
Ratchet by the radiator, make you hot in your home
Had your eye on the wrong nigga, you was watchin′ the throne
We was in the borough of Brooklyn, just rockin′ the flow
Choppin' it slow for those that just want to cop it and go
Brand new shaft to your dome, only resolution
Double hommies, double the bodies, and double execution


Ruste Juxx, who the fuck go harder?
Respect your elders, I might be your father
Light years behind me biting the dust
I′m at the finish line rollin' up, lightin′ the Dutch

Lifeline, writin' my clutch, hangin′ in the balance
Get smart you get smacked, intellectual valance
Learn the lesson to get a lecture in talons
The Brooklyn bullshit, Crown Heights to Allen

These niggas be wylin', poppin' off the lip
Till I hang ′em upside down, drop ′em off a cliff
Sweet box knock you out, the win
Wake your ass up and knock you back out again

Then black out again, bring the gats out again
Chop your body up and stuff you in the black ottoman
Bark louder than this thing that you bite
So by morning your mom's mourning, but now it′s goodnight

That motherfucker thought it was a game?
Ruste Juxx nigga
Torae, MP