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"103 And Roosy"

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
"5 Minute Beats 1 Take Raps"

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
"72 Virgins"
(feat. Big Body Bes)

[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]

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!
(feat. Rick Ross)

[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

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.
(feat. Big Body Bes)

[Action Bronson:]
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 man
Stashed under the sole of the sneaker
Smoke the budder same color as The Weeknd

[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'
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]

It's too crazy right?
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
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

[Verse 4: Big Body Bes]
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
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
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
"Actin Crazy"

Uh, opportunity be knocking
Let a motherfucker in

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