Action Bronson - 9-24-11 lyrics

Smoking fucking thanksgiving turkey bags man
Surgical procedures ben Johnson
You already know

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's 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 it
Just think of it as bucatin' and 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 blablablabla
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

Yo my mind is locked up
My conscious rocked up
In an alley with a fiend
Getting his cock 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 cock 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
Ocean-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
It's perfect timing and I hope
That I don't blow it
I pop the bottle of the moet, yo here's to me


Late nights I'm trying to stay up
Out of the orange skips
Great white sharks, the 38 with tarnished tip
27 years I never met an honest bitch
Slice their faces like Kitana 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!