Double eXXecution - Marco Polo, Ruste Juxx, Torae

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, doe

Then bring in Juxxman in the track by M.P., doe

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