Action Bronson - Funkmaster Flex Freestyle lyrics
Action Bronson [Ariyan Arslani] Queens, NY, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Action Bronson - Funkmaster Flex Freestyle lyrics]
I got this pretty brown queen
Her kid's addicted to chicken nuggets
Used to play college ball
But I'm just trying to ball
I'm trying to sit on leather
'til my time is called
When it is, fuck it, it's been a wild ride
Since '95 with the jean sets
Beamers that lean left
Back on the scene fresh
Fuck, I'm on the roof doing squats
Ain't no boots in the box
Just some dead white man and his Glock
The Saab is cock-eyed
Doing 360s in front of Popeye's
Nobody could control me, Allah tried
But then I ate ribs, fuck, I hate myself
That shit is banging though
Shoot the pistol, bite the mango, alpha tango
Bravo
My mother's fist look like it's coughing
It's costly
Hide the dope inside the four-seat
Hit me on the jet before 3: 00
I'm back at 5: 00 like basketball team
Window shopping, wiling out in Holland lately
Name embroidered on the napkins
And the pillow cases
5th floor view, stare into the square
Ton of flare, fly jackets
Rock the Mother Bear
Priceless shit, sharpshooter, precise intent
Pineapple, fried rice, and fish
Carve my niche
Movement on the arms are Swiss
I charm your bitch
Hit the dealer for the jar to twist
Jogging lightly in an Alfred Dunner
I'm on my second plate
Seedless grapes, Freyja with the Swedish face
My style is dope like a fiend
With the in his arm
Send the cut chops right from the farm
Sauce complexion like a mirror
Fortified with wine
Alfa Romeo Romanos are getting
Imported by design
Shawty speaking Dutch to me
Then pass the dutch to me so many sons
I should file for fucking custody queens
Her kid's addicted to chicken nuggets
Used to play college ball
But I'm just trying to ball
I'm trying to sit on leather
'til my time is called
When it is, fuck it, it's been a wild ride
Since '95 with the jean sets
Beamers that lean left
Back on the scene fresh
Fuck, I'm on the roof doing squats
Ain't no boots in the box
Just some dead white man and his Glock
The Saab is cock-eyed
Doing 360s in front of Popeye's
Nobody could control me, Allah tried
But then I ate ribs, fuck, I hate myself
That shit is banging though
Shoot the pistol, bite the mango, alpha tango
Bravo
My mother's fist look like it's coughing
It's costly
Hide the dope inside the four-seat
Hit me on the jet before 3: 00
I'm back at 5: 00 like basketball team
Window shopping, wiling out in Holland lately
Name embroidered on the napkins
And the pillow cases
5th floor view, stare into the square
Ton of flare, fly jackets
Rock the Mother Bear
Priceless shit, sharpshooter, precise intent
Pineapple, fried rice, and fish
Carve my niche
Movement on the arms are Swiss
I charm your bitch
Hit the dealer for the jar to twist
Jogging lightly in an Alfred Dunner
I'm on my second plate
Seedless grapes, Freyja with the Swedish face
My style is dope like a fiend
With the in his arm
Send the cut chops right from the farm
Sauce complexion like a mirror
Fortified with wine
Alfa Romeo Romanos are getting
Imported by design
Shawty speaking Dutch to me
Then pass the dutch to me so many sons
I should file for fucking custody queens