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"Mr. 2 Face"
(feat. Meyhem Lauren & Jah Tiger)

[Intro: Action Bronson]
Yeah! Bam Bam
Live from Jamaica
Uh, yeah

[Verse 1: Action Bronson]
I'm feelin' like the Phantom of the Opera
Hangin' from the ladder with a chopper
I might splatter if I drop
They say I look Spanish in the drop
700 horses go "VROOM" then I vanish off the block
Now I'm in the store playin' lotto in a wife beater
One sock on, chancletas
Screamin', "You better give me my cheddar before I break shit"
Man let me stop, it's only good vibrations
How could I be mad at this view?
Strange patterns in the skies, snakes that fly
The mothafuckin' stakes are high
Look the other way when jakes roll by
For my birthday, put a hundred thousand in the cake, oh my
I think I might flip into the ocean
Press the pedal of the M3, yellow
Soundin' like explosions, baby girl, don't play with my emotions
Don't baby, don't baby

[Hook: Jah Tiger]
I'm Mr. 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm mistress 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm Mr. 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm mistress 2 Face
Well done again

[Verse 2: Jah Tiger]
Mi as a ras mi haffi deh pon dem case
Know the tribulation, we all over your face
Dat's why mi nuh mingle inna no rat race
As a ras mi carry a permanent smile upon mi face

[Hook: Jah Tiger]
I'm Mr. 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm mistress 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm Mr. 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm mistress 2 Face
Look Yah!

[Verse 3: Jah Tiger]
Meet you awhile ago and you have one face
Meet you did sour with a different face
Dat fi show say that you have two face
Your have a clean face and a... dirty face

[Hook: Jah Tiger]
I'm Mr. 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm mistress 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm Mr. 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm mistress 2 Face
Well done again

[Verse 4: Jah Tiger]
Gwan like you ah work offa Satan face
Like you ah work offa Lucifer face
Like you ah work offa the devil, him face
Satan couldn't lend I man none o' him face

[Hook: Jah Tiger]
I'm Mr. 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm mistress 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm Mr. 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm mistress 2 Face
Watch this!

[Verse 5: Jah Tiger]
Englishland people, from all different face
The people scatter, all over the place
You can hear it from the keyboard, the drum and the bass
As a ras mi nuh do my tings inna haste

[Hook: Jah Tiger]
I'm Mr. 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm mistress 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm Mr. 2 Face
Time you ah waste
I'm mistress 2 Face
Well done

[Verse 6: Meyhem Lauren]
White rum and ting, Magnum and tonic
Jamaican in Jamaica, gotdamn it's so ironic
Shots of JB at the 'dega party
Uh, can't walk, I can stagger hardly
Rasta tanktop, lookin' like it's '92
Mr. 2 Face, rasclot, we gon' find you
I'm livin' off the land like the Ital man
How to stay alive? That's a vital plan
Black sand beach, Boston Bay snapper
Curry on the lobster, jerk is comin' after
Take a shot of Jager, bone slide with a slide
Everything I read, there ain't no fuckin' with my vibe
June plum juice drippin' down my chest
Open off a bad girl, damn I'm such a mess
Flex with the top down, I'm doin' the pepper seed
Ask the dread who got the better weed

[Bridge: Action Bronson + Meyhem Lauren]
Freak dancin' in the basement, grindin' in the hallway
That's right, we do it all day
Freak dancin' in the basement, grindin' in the hallway
That's right, we do it all day

Give me your love
Give me your love
"Mr. Songwriter"

Yo, this is Action Bronsonelli in the place to be

Peace to the ultimate warrior posted up in Astoria
Bronsolini is the name and when I rhyme it's euphoria
To the death of me, motherfuckers seeking that serum
I got the recipe, soft shell crabs right out the [?]
The devil's basil laying lovely in the plastic jar
Open it up from the aroma almost crashed that car
New York livin', linen shorts we too horse driven
And when we sitting down to dine at least there's two course swimming
Probably calamari, my young shooter I call him Gallinari
Still serve the Knicks, nibbles of parmigiani
Hand-craft the cheeses, aged inside the cave to thaw
Off to my tailor alterations for my days cut off
Come to the park with my jump shot, got five bets
I'm on price, deadly in the clutch with the precision of a shark bite
After that we split the paper up and spark the pepper flakes
Flying to the heights, Dominican buffet for pepper steaks
You know it's Queensbridge you hear the flavour of my music
My brother Lonny manoeuvre hugging [?] in view it, fluid
Close-knit, no shit just like a herringbone
And laid over the sweater of many brothers of [?]
My aura glistening, my shit's official in
My platter's three stars, the book of Michelin
Study Ju-Jitsu in, closets of crystalline
I'm known to rock the green ballys straight out of switzerland, Peace
My facial hair better than Tom Selleck, smoke the bomb tree
Under the palm tree, accent mimicking Connery
Pardon me lady, slow roasted animal smothered in gravy
Flow like the navy, you play me, then you snoring with daisy

Bronsolinio, the motherfucking number one rap singer
The number one rap singer in the universe
Cause I'm the master of the universe, call me He-Man
Mister songwriter, Bronsolini, Bronsolinio
Bronsonolski, Action Bronstein, George Bronstein
Action Castanza
Yo it's Action Bronson
"Mt. Etna"

Uh, yeah yeah, yeah yeah
Uh, uh, yeah yeah, it's me

Anywhere I go, I stick out like my cousin Vinny (Oh)
I ride through the city, all kinds of fire vitties (Uh)
Window, hair’s down, baby I'm so jiggy (Jiggy)
All white at the pool party, vibe on Diddy (Yeah, that's my vibe)
Yeah, baby, catch me live on viddy (Uh)
I ain’t rolling with nobody if they won't die with me (Nah, motherfucker)
What if murder was the case (Uh), and Papi need a pancreas (Uh)?
Shoot him in his ass, make his stanky leg the stankiest (That shit stinky)
The last time they put a wristband on your boy's wrist
Appeared a 4 point 6 olive green (Woo) with the toy kit (Woo)
Stupid dumb turbo (Uh), howling like a hungry wolf (Ow)
The stars align with Virgo, Latin ladies laying, only furs on (True)
Uh, I guess my motherfucking sweater-ter-ter-ter-ter-ter-ter on
Yeah, you know it's me

It's best you drink your little drink (What), and do your little dance moves (Do 'em)
Before I fucking uppercut you past the planet Moon
Salmon 740, zoom zoom, in the boom boom
No racks in effects (No, no, no), I get to the checks (Yup, yup, yup)
Finesse at it's best (Yup), White Bronco, others known him as LeBronson (It's me)
My next album’s only for dolphins (Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow)
Motherfuckers don’t deserve me, no, I ain't pearly (Nope)
Bitch, ’cause even when I'm dirty, still shine like jewelry
Motherfucking, uh, yeah

I be going through some shit, that's why I smoke a lot (You know it's me)
I be going through some shit, that’s why I smoke a lot (Uh)
I be going through some shit, that's why I smoke a lot (A lot)
I be going through some shit, that's why I smoke a lot (You hear me)

You don't wanna smoke weed, but turning down friends can be tricky
Hey, Bronson, want some?
No way, that stuff's illegal
Hey, Bronson, want some?
Uh, I'm allergic
Hey, Bronson, want some?
Uh, no, I gotta stay low
Bronson, want some?
Eh, fuck it, why the hell not?
"Muslim Wedding"

Should have brought that wasabi
That horseradish
Cubed up
Fuckin' sniffin' that horseradish

Yo I'm the young Laird Hamilton
Hoppin' out the chopper
Scorin' like I'm Messi but this game is far from soccer
Giambi on the lenses and the juice is from the doctor
Jar still full of drugs
An 80s Caddy painted aqua
Take these and freeze they nose
Dick sucked by a seasoned pro
Info on the need to know
Motherfucker you don't need to know
Gimme trees to blow
I keep the caesar low
I want the head, the shoulders, and the knees and toes
From the hottest summer to the freezing snow
Mind higher then a bleeding nose
I'm Bobby Fischer
Check mate
You're like a Spanish Roasted Chicken
Break your chest plate
And yes I just ate
I keep that napkin near me
My favorite uncle went to summer camp for racketeering

Tossin' money like a Muslim Wedding
Sleep on satin bed sheets with the custom threading
Tossin' money like a Muslim Wedding
Sleep on satin bed sheets with the custom threading

This be that whore house visitor
Watch em' while they scissor
103 your Roosevelt
Fancy on the shoes and belt
Nasty pussy tuna melt
Stinky like a China street
You're bound to find me where the corporate and the grimy meet
Lay flat on designer sheet
She kept asking me to grind her grease
So I pound a freak like a pound of meat
Top dog cause I hound the street
I'm makin' poopy on your head cause this is easy
Old Italian men inside the kitchen making cheeses

Tossin' money like a Muslim Wedding
Sleep on satin bed sheets with the custom threading
Tossin' money like a Muslim Wedding
Sleep on satin bed sheets with the custom threading
"My Right Lung"

I'd give my right lung if I could dunk a basketball one time
I'd give my right lung if I could dunk a basketball one time

Seasons change weekly
Life in the big leagues
I can tell its summer by the fig trees
Wiggle German Jeeps with kiss on 'em
Drop her top she got a nice set of tits on her
Hardcore, got me feeling like a fish outta water
Cruising U.S.A. I use six quarters
I got next

Uh, ah man, ah man, uh

I'd give my right lung if I could dunk a fucking ball just one time
I'd give my right lung if I could dunk a basketball one time
I'd give my right lung if I could dunk a ba- yo fuck that shit man

Fuck a critic
I had my little Spanish homie hit you
With the civic
Send the motherfucker spinning
I ain't like my chain so I threw it on a midget
I don't like the terms of the deal
Do better on the digits
My Columbian princess'll come and hit you with the scissors
In the neck 'til it look like Twizzlers

Night night
Take me home
"No Time"

[Hook x2:]
No time for struggle cause we shining today, today
Look out the window see me flying away, away

It's a proven fact money make the world go round
And a couple sweet words'll make your girl go down
On the whole team cause you weren't taking care of business
See me in a Bimmer, see you in a Civic, uh

[Hook x2]

[Verse 1:]

When I step up in the party, yes I'm letting my nuts hang
Tryna fuck a groupie bitch right on the hood of the Mustang
From a place where they bust things, hailing from Flushing
Peace to blood stains, Beamer custame
On a California king where the thug lay (that's word to me man)
The joint longer than Mutombo finger, my features etch
Shorty sniffin' lines like a sketch
Tell her that I need my slippers fetched
I need a wifey tongue longer than Kakey
Shoot the gun right when I whistle, plus she never will snake me
Do a split on my dick
If I'm sick she'll even clean me if I shit in my pants
So I'm taking her to France with me

[Hook x2]

[Verse 2:]

Doing math like an Asian student
I've been a truant, three language fluent
Blueish on the Buick
Reddish on the hue of the cheeks on my booby
Her body smoking like a dooby
The joint rolled like a croissant, mad butter
Gold or brown
If I end up in the can then who gon' hold me down?
Probably no one
They like it when you hot, when you not
They tell you eat a cock off the springboard I dive into the drop
Gold watch, like I just retired
No socks in the loafer cause it's tacky
At least I'm not up in Pataki's
You catch me higher than a Shaq knee
See me swerving side to side like Mutombo finger
The bundle bringer, guns are subtle
Hear them clapping like the end of the huddle
I might be big as a bear, but nothing to cuddle
Hop in the shuttle, land in Russia, yo

[Hook x2]


[Hook x2]
"Not Enough Words"
(with Statik Selektah)

Statik Selektah
Playing through the broken ankles, man
Never sit down, cause I'mma stand up

Book a ticket to the tropics cause I’m through with all the shit
That I'm living every day, in the mirror saying why me?
Hide my eyes cause I'm sickened with the image
Of using marijuana, sipping vintage for the time being
My skills set is very serious, in fact
Spit a wild rap, carve a steak right off the cow's back
Throw it on the grill, I'm cooking in the stew
Same shit that's on the grill gave me leather for the boot
If they make me take the stand then I'm lying through my teeth though
Ask to swear to God but in that I don't believe though
My man Stevie Mo playing safety for Toledo
Hustle 'til my fingers staying cheesy like a cheeto
Shorty on the bed pleasuring my pee pee
Smart crew TCN, lyrical graffiti
Drug roll precise, like a hooker with the dice
Butcher with the knife, you get tooken for your life
So much to say it's so little time and shitty
Killer Queens the borough, New York be the city
Coming crazy out your mouth will get your split up like a philly
Running through the maze like I'm Willie, you gotta feel me

I’m moving forward cause nothing's gonna be the same
Eyes blurry from the smoke, I can't see the lane
Swerving heavy, bottle in my lap
I'm looking for a problem so I'm modeling the gat
Somebody save me, cause I don't wanna go to jail
I'd rather be up in the mansion for the polo sale
But I'm here, stuck inside my thoughts
I'm tryna have a bag of money stuffed inside my shorts

My life is like a movie, Blizzard with the shottie
Hookah house on Roosie chilling in the lobby
Yes I'm living gnarly, the 40 ounce of Barley
Open up cigars and fill 'em with a bunch of Marley
Double cut porterhouse straight from Luger's
Ruger for intruders hand to hand made by the duelers
Ginger ale in Knicks glasses, your style is piss mothafucka
Time to flip the mattress, kick it swift as Cassius
My mind is stronger than Mariusz Pudzianows
Obvious to see I'm a star straight off the couch
You rapping with a blouse, you get slapped up side the mouth
By the Zangief look-a-like, Bronson always cooking right
Spray the vinegar to tighten up a yummy
Smoking got me squinting like the sky is high and sunny
Attachment on the nozzle make the iron fire funny
Never stop until my body diving in a pile of money


I'm already smoking like a gunshot
You know the fuzzy light green, call it Dunlop, flow nun's twat
Many hours, one man standing, one spot
From the morning to the mothafuckin' sun drop
Cause I'm one with the Earth, eyes red
Mothafucka I've been blunted since birth, age 9
Mom dukes kept the gun in the purse, next to the hair spray
Fuck tomorrow, money coming in the fast way

"Nothing To Worry About"
(feat. Peter Bjorn & John)

[Hook: Peter Bjorn & John]
Do this thing, this type of thing
Put a little money in this type of thing
I've got nothing to worry about
I've got nothing to worry about

Speak in the third person, he don't like it when he overlooked
Last year he was a cook, always been a crook
Handing money out, his palms are feeling itchy
You still a bitch if you bitch, b
He make the paper, never made he, seat laid back
In a five wagon, champagne, eat off rap
Twin angels made of porcelain
Prayer scripted on the black Steve Austin shit
Yo, you lost it, kid
Call my Peter Luger Junior, keen shop house in shorts
Island hopping, winter time
Pad Thai with the peanuts and the bitter lime
And shorty will take a shit on the chest of any stupid bitch that you consider fine
He one of a kind off the couch
He piss standing up
He read books and write poetry
And he strong as a Samoan
Straight from Flushing and you know it, bitch

[Peter Bjorn & John:]
Negative, why always so negative?
If you have problems, why don't you go solve them?

"Only In America"
(feat. Party Supplies)

I'm focused, man, I swear I'm focused. These mothafuckas don't know, I'm the mothafuckin' golden child. Uh huh

[Verse 1 - Action Bronson:]
Anywhere I go, you know you're goin' with me
Bobby and Whitney without the sniffin'
Dog your bitch look like Eddie Griffin
I'm three wheelin', keep the Chevy tippin'
Big bearded Buddha bangin' bitches in Bermuda
Barry Bonds, barracuda, Chattanooga
Back alley shooter, black Balley booter
Catch me jumpin' out the plane like a black puma
Stoned, pump Depeche Mode
Man all I see is red snow
Left my man with a headstone on Edgecombe
He was goin' for the glory and the end zone
Just another sob story cause the pen's cold
Am I gonna sell my soul? That depends, ho
Man the vehicle's a rental, speak gentle
Mink sweatsuit
Stab your father while he's pissin' in the men's room

[Hook - Party Supplies:]
Only in America
Just can't seem to get you off of my mind
Only in America
All that seems we're goin' nowhere
Only in America
And I just can't seem to get you off my mind
The best things in life are free
All that seems we're goin' nowhere
All that seems we're goin' nowhere
All that seems we're goin' nowhere
Goin' nowhere, nowhere

[Verse 2 - Action Bronson:]
NYC what the fuck is goin' on?
These mothafuckas won't play my song
They sayin' that we soft, they sayin' that we fell off
They sayin' that these other fuckers better than us, you gotta be kiddin'
A bunch of pussies, when you piss, you gotta be sittin'
You tie your hair in a bun and shirt in a knot
You got the urge to suck the cock of Serge Ibaka
Pictures of naked rappers hangin' in your locker
You and your father never played catch, he taught you how to twerk
Since I've been on the Earth I've been lightin' up
And I've been all around the world twistin' dykes and purp
Shit, light the earth

"Pepe Lopez"

I got the '89 Firebird
Guns like Wyatt Earp
Before I do business
I want to know the buyer's worth
Fast forward '98, Mark McGuire shirt
I eat dessert while your bitch flirt (Uhh)
Ship work to a Mick out in Pittsburgh
When you're focused, strict terms are never misheard
Shift gears, schhherrp
Twist Earth
Lift the Nerf
Shit, I got a lot of nerve
Catch me on the run with a Nevada nurse
Rambo knife in the Escada purse
Lestor Diamond in the face, chase
I'm in the gray 8
Restaurant, I order rabbit like a Playmate
Suede snake, crocodile silk
Barely legal Brazilian mami all on the quilt
I twist a bitch like Wilt, built
I spit the shit the people feel, uhh, yeah

Let me take it out to Coney Island, uhh
Drinking 40's out in Rockaway, uhh
Jones Beach Field 6, uhh
Out in Deer Park, peel whips, uhh
Flushing Meadow Park shit, uhh
Barbecues with the Mexicans
Get my muthafucking drink, man
Damn, this is Bam Bam
This is about to be some shit
Blue Chips 2, bitch (Owwww!)
We so muthafucking out here (Owwww!)
I wear a bib all muthafucking day

Muthafucka, you knocked my teeth out!
Hey, Sticks, come on!