Medication in the plastic bag I'm a man motherfucker, you're a half a fag My chest is hairy like the Cubans rocking silk In the 80s on Miami beach You're just a rabbit that be captured by the falcons feet I hunt for the meat see me we can thump in the street Fuck around leave you slumped in your seat Cause we're coming from Queens, every platter is Zagat rated Caramelized up, bulls are getting castrated Hold up hold up someone pass the weed to me Fuck a routine I'm switching up the scenery Boats with decks strictly using throats for sex Yoga stretch, open pussy like a sofa bed Key lime spear fishing off the Yucatan Grab a barracuda higher than a parachuter Pair of shooters Anthony and Harper Caciocavalli dog I'm sharper than the archer I'm an artisan down for bi-partisan Cause everyone getting paid see me with the freshest fade Charles Oakley gecko belts and durangos I fuck good and make big seeds like a mango NFL ready, sculpted for the clay court Simple spaghetti shifting in the gray sport Suck my dick bitch real good Mother fuck a kid, Action Bronsolino suck my balls
No disrespect ma, I'm tryna eat the pussy Lift your legs over you head so I can taste the tushy King Thrust is what they call me at the hooker house 260 pounds of pressure right in a hookers mouth 5'7" with the ass of of a horse Put it in from behind its the salad I toss She ride me like a maniac Best believe the bitch a brainiac She known to keep a fresh shaven cat Milk chocolate and her eyes like the sun Keep a loaded 22 inside her thighs and her buns Her pussy lips are tight just like the box of a nun She'll have a fiend itchy and scratchy for rock in the slums Boosting in the boostiere I give my favorite Goose away just to get a closer look at how the juices spray Fucking tired can't go no more My raps are marinated days ahead Jalapeno cream cheese on the raisin bread That's for breakfast I've got a death wish you never catch Bronsolino in a necklace I'm on the block like tetris Caddy green Northstar engine Pecan pie seats Lord I'm a legend Queens shit man
Five minute beats, one take raps No false stories of my gunplay stats Drugs sit beside me, blunts stay fat Hand-craft the music, rhymes stay acoustic Pies and Thighs on my mind all the time, roll the lime Fuck rap I was class with my bus pass Early nineties Tom Selleck with the moustache Your eyes are blind to the diamond in the rough Needle in the hay, charismatic character, far from amateur Spider senses so I'm scanning the parameter Straight from scrubs so my uncle is a janitor Love my Mother, hate a motherfucker, hate a piece o' shit, hate a cocksucker Stand beside me motherfucker you're my brother Came from different pussies but we share the same supper
Five minute beats, one take raps No false stories of my gunplay stats Drugs sit beside me, blunts stay fat Blunts stay fat, blunts stay fat
West Palm Beach betting on a dog race Bitch with me big titties and a small waist Pistol noise, shiftin' in a Hitler toy Kick shit, young Ruud van Nistelrooy Eating brisket, chilling at the bris Knuckles like I punch walls metal in the fist Smoking seven kinds of pepper and shit Veteran shit, give Melissa Etheridge a dick Stroke pussy like a cat lover My kids are mixed that means they got a black Mother And their Father's a G Strictly Oolong on the tea, the shirt straight from '93, man with the ski Peace to lo-lives Brooklyn, smart crew Queens Sharp tooth fiends in the chartreuse jeans Old Girbaud shit, pockets in the front Waist 33, odd sizes out of Marshalls
Five minute beats, one take raps No false stories of my gunplay stats Drugs sit beside me, blunts stay fat Blunts stay fat, blunts stay fat Kid, Queens shit, Blue Chips shit
[Action Bronson:] Here we are Just us I know you want from the first time you seen me in the movie Hanging on the shoulder of a villain She could flatten a village You know I'm usually chilling out with Bruce Willis Somehow, you and my man met first I was still stealing the money outta my gram-gram's purse But you were Running the streets, letting the blam-blam work Back then we smoked nickels of dirt Nowadays it ain't shit to drop a grip on dessert And you wanna tell the feds about some shit and it hurts Fuck it, so be it, you 'bout to know Jesus Turn this motherfucker back into a fetus Phone's tapped so speak Swedish when you call the crib Rich forever motherfucker I was born to live Die happy, knowing that my family's straight I hope they didn't see the numbers on that Camry plate I been a grown man since I had a baby dick These motherfuckers ain't saying shit Close my eyes, spray the whip, hit your rib twice Now your kids gotta deal with this shit cause this is life
[Big Body Bes:] Yeah, and I'm fucking here now It's fucking Body What the fuck I'm doing? Whole bunch a shit I'm out here wilding Got a fucking 50-year-old Puerto Rican with me He don't even know my name But he gon' stab something for me He know what time it is No watch on the wrist Fuck outta here man Smack the shit outta you then slap your son's father Your whole family loves me more than you Salute me every time Every time I come to your fucking crib, it better be a plate wrapped up on the stove motherfucker Cause you know I'm coming to eat Fuck that I don't even want firsts, I want my seconds first That's right, I eat right out the motherfucking pot Fuck a spoon, I been eating hand to hand my whole life I motivate myself motherfucker Anytime I need to think about some shit man I just go back and close my motherfucking eyes man And go back to the sorrow Fuck outta here man My whole life is a fucking discography b You stupid? Quadruple platinum Oops, what's that? Another one
[Intro: Action Bronson] [Coughing] Smoking fucking thanksgiving turkey bags man Surgical procedures Ben Johnson You already know
[Verse 1: Action Bronson] Sign my name with the feather, tap dance under the full moon Smoke and drinking liquor for the fam that left us too soon Just keep it truckin', searching all the nooks and crannies No english muffin, streets are filled with crooks and trannies Bam bam got a shooter like Lagassee Emerald green paper that I split up with my posse One hand driving, 3 gram smoking 2 fiend sucking, tea bag soaking Strength of a retard the drugs are even stronger Shorty loved the longitude, dealer bring a quarter through Over fishing make the snapper less affordable I hate when stupid bitches ask me questions that rhetorical Like "do you want to have sex? ", well bitch, it's obvious Her name was Yenta from the former Yugoslavia She grew a bush like a baby plant Still I ate, just think of it as bucatini razor clams Smuggle cheeses in a baby bag And then I serve at a private tasting I got no time for wasting Just dick is placed in the slit no type of conversation And prime rib from LaFrieda carved at the babababa Fuck, fucked my last word up cause I don't give a shit man I meant to say prime rib carved at the fucking carving station but yo
[Verse 2: Action Bronson] Yo my mind is locked up, my conscious rocked up In an alley with a fiend getting his cocked sucked Plus she wearing a wedding dress a special day She said she finally met a... Fuck
Yo my mind is locked up, my conscious rocked up In an alley with a fiend getting his cocked sucked And she wearing a wedding dress a special day She said she finally met a man to take her breath away Well naturally I'm jealous, because I'm lonely At times my only friends are drugs and the cannoli My dad was right I shoulda listened when he told me A walking contradiction wounds inflicted on me solely Pain within running deeper than the ocean floor Bluh bluh bluh bluh bluh bluh yo
Pain within running deeper than the ocean floor Ocean avenue, the family straight from Kosovo That was years ago mum look how your son has bloomed I hum a tune and then I'm hotter than the sun in june And I'm just living my life but feel I'm drifting Demons on the doorstep, lungs that feel constricted Or maybe I should see a shrink and get prescripted Or take the hand of God but shit I think I'll keep my distance I think I'm frightened and I didn't even know it But yo, that was a thought and I'm subconsciously a poet This shit is perfect timing and I hope that I don't blow it I pop the bottle of the moet you hears from me
[Unknown rapper shout outs]
[Verse 3: Action Bronson] Late night I'm trying to stay out of the orez skips? Great white sharks, the 38 with tarnished tips 27 years I never met an honest bitch Slice their face like Katana and shit Through my nasal blow the smoke Basil on the boat Hookers on the half shell, hundred dollar pants Wind breaker jacket flapping like a falcon from a westward wind Play the kitchen like a mexican, next of kin Patrick Swayze... We out!
[Action Bronson:] Shit, sweep you off your feet Like Ryu in the corner Shit, man, haha Smooth, man I'm a fuckin' smooth mover, ugh
Yo if I didn't say it's me you would probably think it's Sting My fish go bling, what, this old thing? I never switch up, my brother need a biscuit Then I'm gripped up, hangin' off my shoulder, fuck the bullshit November rain came the same day My daughter taught me how to do the Nae Nae to Calle 13 Only compare me to Kevin Spacey Or Rubén Blades, the blunt fat like two tamales Do a world tour and scoop some dollars Come home and hit the pool hall I'm fishbowlin' new Impalas Two Russian twins suck while I drive fast It's me, man
I'm the one that takes the wolf head, wears it on my own head Wisdom from the old heads, you ain't gettin' no head You ain't gettin' no bread, you ain't gettin' no shows You ain't gettin' no dough, you ain't gettin' no hoes Dawg I hit the best of 'em, mothafuck the rest of 'em Well now I'm nestled in the Tesla eatin' pretzels, haaa? I should prolly put a wetsuit on I'll be right back...
[Rick Ross:] Young Renzel, line two Young A.B., I got this you dig? Yeah, yo M-M-M-Maybach Music I love my rude bitches, end up as new bitches Skippin' school bitches, cookin' me food bitches All my niggas down, we lookin' like Fu-Schnickens Got a few tickets for bitches who truly digged us College dormitories, fill 'em with smooth lyrics Air Max 95s, grey sweats, true menace Known as a Jonas, complex on the phoner Simple individual, confident in the Lotus Foreign ambitions, they go with my last wishes As I open my eyes, surprised by 7 figures Baking soda required, decided drug dealin' Residents is divided amongst the feds and the children Let him keep totin' drugs if he willin' to plead guilty The star state witness, they'll hit you up for that selfie Dro can only help me, Backwood and I'm healthy I'm the label owner, I'm the only one can shelf me, biggest M-M-M-Maybach Music Boss
Why are we letting things on the outside of our physical penetrate our soul, penetrate our nuanced wiring system, our cerebral cortex, okay? What really is a thought? Can you control when a thought arrives outside of the brain? Can you or can't you? Is free will a real thing or is it the philosophy of free will? Seekin' scripture, haha.
[Action Bronson:] Uh Waxy Smoking that Barbara Walters wax Same fucking outfit twenty days in a row I don't give a shit
[Verse 1: Action Bronson] You only came around 'cause you thought I had some money for you You got it fucked up That's for the kids And If there's anything left I'll cop a crib And If there's anything left after that I'll cop a six How you think I got the art displayed on the dinner plates? First course was from the Finger Lakes Last course cinnamon ginger cake She gave me head during the Laker game I got her tatted, trying to erase her name No, I caught her cheating, her pussy didn't feel the same She was probably with one of the Broncos Or LeBron so I blew her car up Soon as she try to start it up, nah I can't talk about that though... Your chance is thin like the moustache of Puerto Ricans Shooting guns with my daughter on the weekend Smoke the budder same color as The Weeknd Stashed under the sole of the sneaker [laughs] Fuck Fuck man Stashed under the sole of the sneaker Smoke the budder same color as The Weeknd Uh
[Verse 2: Action Bronson] Told the driver Lenny swing me by the garden I gotta talk to Pat Hit him with stacks Showed him the gat like 'you gonna miss the finger roll right' Fuck I Told the driver Lenny swing me by the garden I gotta talk to Pat Showed him some stacks Then showed him the gat like 'you gonna miss the finger roll right' Yes Mr. Baklava Then I cartwheeled into a aqua car
[Action Bronson:] [Trails into laughter] Shit! It's too crazy right? Yo It's just fucking nuts We just talking crazy at this point
[Verse 3: Action Bronson] I told the driver Lenny swing me by the garden I gotta talk to Pat Showed him some stacks Then showed him the gat like ‘you're gonna miss the finger roll right?’ Yes, Mr. Baklava Then I cartwheeled into and aqua car Now I’m, sliding Ma, your boy has made it, no more Crying The facial reminiscent of a lion Fuck around I’ll send you back to zion And I ain't even trying Swing the wood wheel like lumberjacks I remember back when they wouldn’t spend a stack on my rap Now they want to wipe my ass in the crack after I shat And I just had corn beef hash Ew...
[Verse 4: Big Body Bes] Yeah It's me Motherfucking Big Body I'm back for the fucking sequel, man You know I had come and to spice this shit the fuck up Mr. Fuckin Sazon himself I'm over here fucking wiling A lot of shit done motherfucking changed now Motherfuckers done came up Whole lot of different motherfucking moves are being made You know what time it motherfucking is So my lifestyle done changed a little bit All types of shit The motherfucking crib is renovated, man All types of fly shit I got the new fucking marble floor, man That shit is imported We just flew that shit in from Connecticut Motherfuckers is out here spinning stupid shit But you know me, man Same motherfucking body I'm out here wiling like I never changed man This the same motherfucker you know me, man '98, doing stick-ups with the screw-driver It's me man The last car on the fucking A train man I fucking live this shit Done came up Pockets was always swole Sometimes a little low but I get them back up, man Fill them up like the fucking gas tank God, man Psssht Shout-outs to my fucking brother, man, Action Bronson, man We out here, man We motherfucking out here, man Not enough to say, man But a motherfucking few more things that's what to say Shit is fucking crazy, man I'm out here smoking good, man Fucking pocket, fucking stupid, fucking blunt pack with that up-town piff Shouts to all my motherfucking Dominicans out there in the Heights All of that, 172, 174 Wiling You already know, man Nah, I don't even want a motherfucking ounce, B Give me motherfucking 40 dimes That's how I want it In a brown fucking bag Yeah, tato Papi, that's how we doing it, big fucking style, man And I want that Chimi sauce dripping all over my fucking arm That's how I do it, man Wipe it with the fucking hundred dollar bill I'm out here wiling man My name Big Fucking Body Shouts to motherfucking Albania Shouts to East New York Shouts to Lindenwood Shouts to motherfucking Flushing Shouts to the motherfucking Bronx, man All fucking day I'm out here wiling, man Eagles up
"A Light In The Addict" (feat. Party Supplies & Black Atlass)
[Action Bronson:] Sittin' first class, feelin' like shit though Starin' out the window with the mind of a schizo Thinkin' if I jump, will I feel it when I hit the ground? Fuck that, I want the crown off anybody head I wouldn't care if everybody's dead It's why I keep the pump shotty layin' in the bed Have a fuckin' sleepover with my weapons My Rambo knife is eatin' nuggets with my Smith & Wesson Shit, I made this out of nothin' Damn, these ladies love me out in London Laurenivici served the granulated onion My mind is locked in a contaminated dungeon Dog, what the fuck is with your mother? She got one leg longer than the other One eye through the shutter Made the transition from weed to butter, like spring to summer
[Action Bronson & Black Atlass:] I nearly lost my mind All a motherfucker got is time, time, time Time, time I nearly lost my brain Dealin' with this motherfuckin' pain, so bad So bad, I'm so glad
Opportunity be knocking, you gotta let a motherfucker in I kiss my mother on the cheek, tell her that I love her You ain't gotta worry 'bout a thing, I got it covered Why you think I'm out here actin' crazy? Why you think I'm out here actin' crazy? Why you think I'm out here actin' crazy? Ma, you know I'm still your little baby
All my life I was a fuck-up, Now I pull the truck up Same bitch stuck up, now she wanna suck us See me hanging out the window screaming "What, what!?" No more tough luck; a different cloth is what I'm cut from, baby oh my lord The cops chasing Bronson in an all-white Ford Shit, I'm on an all-night tour Bitch, I'm alright, but I'm off that raw I'm in a robe dancing salsa on the top floor You would swear I'm Puerto Rican but I'm not, lord Hot hoes every city that we go, singing "Heads high, kill 'em with it now!" All I do is eat oysters And speak six languages in three voices It's Adriatic Summers on the samples Don't even try to call him, not available for nothing Unless it's stupid paper, hop out the Studebaker With Anita Baker, uh
Uh, I feel so alive I think I shit myself I should kiss myself, I'm staring at the man inside the mirror The reflection shows a wolf though Goddamn, I'm still cute ho All my women play the flute, saw me place a melon and prosciutt' Left handed, make the Fender cry Count money with a reverend's smile, the Devil's eye Half-Cherokee and Gemini, uh Motherfuckers are Dumb Pete from Jump Street I'll turn your chest plate to lunch meat I'm in a Humvee, looking like a young me Now these motherfuckers all wanna be chubby I switch the season, now the hair's curled Tan skin, I need a bad girl Cause James Brown said "It's a man's world" In a Transam' Twirl, the burner handle made of pearl That's just "Daddy's Little Girl"
Mr. Rosenberg presents I got the fresh baked clam Rockfeller Center, keep it to myself I ain't trying to be a Yenta Sour raviolli herb oil the inventor [?] hit recline on the Sentra Long road traveled all alone Crying on the phone when they said that you were gone Couldn't utter, but I heard it in your tone Well now you know I got to get the chrome We spent the mortgage at the steak house wyling with the creeps Way before this rap shit, driving in a jeep Forest green Cherokee, bad bitch and she ebony Problem is she's smoking all the celery ZZ Top bent like a lion Leonidas body, smoke until the cows come home [?] sandwich, mustard with the cow's tongue Dr. Brown, net worth about a thousand You know the blunt like a Barry Bond bag Smoking bombazzy, fuckin Sean John hat Baking out the car, [?] contact The red sen sunset long short hat We queens bread like a baker in the morning We getting money while you snoring About to start the touring I'll leave an orphan out in Florence Elephantitis in my pockets, shit's enormous