Action Bronson

Action Bronson - 9-24-11 lyrics

rate me

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 mange tout, 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 Jeta 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 in life 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 ill 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, yo, heres to 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!

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