Swords of Home

I'm zipping round in a ship looking down from the clouds

sick of bull shit going on in my town

bout to drop in down to the ground clean it up

got a potion devoted to wipe out the sludge

I'm the fucking jury and the judge

got me wrong way rubbed

one after another one put em locked into a bubble

relocation to a place where they can never escape

problematic dangerous subliminal faceless

infiltrators prepare to be gathered no matter where you are planted

I am the phantom hired for the countdown

capturing the ones setting up shop having too much fun

if you make it today not getting caught or shot

make my words heard you get what you deserve

locking down the corners

pay phones take prints from the quarters

match too the backs of them catching the axes