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[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 Letras de cancionesI 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! From Letras Mania