Lyrics Action Bronson

Action Bronson

Time for Some

Time for some action

Yeah, but you don't hear me though

Come on, here we go

We put it down everywhere we go

So motherfucker come on cause its

Here's a toast to the fact that I'm a man and I can stand alone

And all my suits are made by hand in RomeRicotta stuff that Cannellon'/I'm in the garden smoking roses

Deliver like Malone, I'm talkin' Moses/Part the ocean

Spark the potion/Diamonds in the rough

We shine 'em up/Make a necklace, dive up in the muff

Then wash my dick, straight to breakfast. Hop up in the truck

Got more flavor than some Dr. Pepper

Hottest stepping struts

And the streets paved with concrete

I'm known to smoke the same shit that makes the lawn green

Gaze at the moon right off the shore, dream

But me no worry got a strong team

Just like my Knick's '94 team, we winnin' though

Go 80 layers on the Baklava, that's hand made by my nana

Peace to Antigona

The whole Shkup, Bill Clinton Boulevard

Since a youth Bronsolini known to put it on

Already mentioned with the people I respect up in the rap shit

Couple of months you probably see me with an actress

Getting my ass licked, while she driving never crashed it

Smoking on that shit, fantastic

A little breezy off the coast as the sun set

Gallop on beach on the horse cause we young vets

Limited edition, signature inscription

Certificate of authenticity, I'm on a mission

Queens representative, dismember your genitals

Now you got a pussy, fuckin with the general

Bas Rutten, I'm ass bootin', I'm past shootin'

Display fast movements, know that cash rules

Drug clothes and I ain't talking 'bout a bento box

Penetrate your mind, spice it with the mental lox

Fundamental Soundgarden verbal Black Hole

Son at the flicks getting sucked in the back row

Lungs filled, smokey like the pork shoulder

Lash out, one second in the fourth quarter

Triple penetrate, pussy meat I renovate

Fuck 'em like a dog and leave 'em twisted like my mental state

Off the deep end, snorkel in a river

I take it back to Walkman's and tape decks

In great neck, having great sex

I didn't even have a hair on my face yet

My feet were always classic though

Pinky up, classy flow

If you know me, you know never to pass me blow

Straight shitting on these songs so the grass can grow

'Til we sitting in the garden, smoking

Listening to Marvin go

I treat the shit just like a title fight, you sparring

Sooner dip Ferrari, sexin models straight from Holland

Lamb encrusted fennel pollen

When I rhyme it's like the metal hollow

These other motherfuckers smell of flowers

Sissy