This is a song about "Swords"

When timbo is in the party, everybody put up they hands

Words are swords rearrange it you will see it, it's verbal tanks

Only built 4 cuban linx, paid in full, and liquor swords,

I like to think i write and rap as tighter than some biker shorts

Chomping at your oxygen chords

I dont just cut with swords

Nail you to your fuckin' floorboard, razor-sharp raw swords,

And the headrest had to have about eight thorns

Time to change there mind with force and swords

And three hours in the showers with the corpse

Billy-club chainsaw, i’m coming through their front door

Sticking y'all and hitting raw with liquid swords, give me more,

Make your bitches' therapist ask for dental records

Slicing up this track like that's shit's sharp as ninja swords,