Action Bronson, Shaz Illyork - German Engineering lyrics

Shark Week, sense the danger
Hear your heart beat
Perfect hunters from the water
To the concrete

You know we rip it up, any beat we touch
Yo, we past spitting rhymes
Now all we do is throw them up

Never been a fan of the greed
Pound a pussy til it bleed
Shit ain't always what it seems
D's in 'Lo tees
Over anxious, feeling tensions, apprehend us
40 deep on the corner
Somebody's about to get reckless
Like Forty Deuce in '87
Plan to go at any second
Mix my drink with holy
Water from the reverend
Thoughts realized then brought to the light
One too many lines
You know I had to get it right

Right off the Gold Coast
7 Series beamers and hold toast
A snapper lace the plate
Now I'm dreaming we own boats
(Shaz: In due time, my nigga)
The cloud of weed like a grown ghost
I'm shaking up the dice
Right to the wallet til we all broke
Break bread, snap my fingers for the waiter
Leathers to the floor
Middle finger for the hater
Controlling my emotions when I'm
Writing on the paper
My mind is a computer where
I process all the data


Left hand command
Throw my life right on the ave
Never fucked up or half bad
But fucked up from bad math a bad man
A mean motherfucker from the badland
Nothing but the fam
Til my braveheart can't stand

Bronsino right out the Adriatic
Weed got a crazy habit for money
Shorty shitting pellets like a baby rabbit
Smoking heavy cause I'm stressed out
Trying to gleam the chest out
Laugh to myself then blow the bless out
I'm never rocking jewelry
But I'll step on the court and
Pop a 3 for a stack
Just call me Tracy Murray
21st, Roti Boti, smoking haze and curry
I'm like some shit you've never seen
Just like an Asian bully
I'm out of Flushing
Ducks are hanging in the window masagi sagi
Plus you cop a chip for the Nintendo
Smell's crazy, squat and smoke a cigarette
Every other store is bubble tea and internet

I'm from the Crazy Horse era
Timbs in all weather rainsuit's, Columbia
I'm never getting wetter
Insides with Griffin, tripping off the liquid
I was wet behind the ears
Taking pointers from the God sniffin'
Finding grams in mommy's purse
Had to learn quick
Copping Happy Meals with food stamps
Had the kid sick
Tired, slinging in the park
Had my Flights on
Metal bats, Kani, Fila jeans with my sight on
Channel 55, remember The Box
Trains got hot way before we entered the drop