Action Bronson - Ronnie Coleman lyrics

When I’m alone smoking weed
Sitting by the window in my home
Often thinking why the fuck is
It I’m not in Rome
If I had a little motivation, money
And a hot body
I see it now, Bronson, the heart-throbby
No more pigging out
Binging on the late night
No more sneaking juice in the syringe
To get the game tight
No more pack of hot dogs on my
Neck right by the fade right
40 pounds to go and then
You hookers getting laid right
I’m eating salad but I’m
Leaving off the croutons
'Cause ever since a youth your
Dog's huskier than UConn
Savings on the cookies
Mommy clipping out the coupons
Passing out from over-eating
Sleeping on the futon lock the refrigerator
There’s no controlling me
Steak and chocolate got they
Muthafuckin hold on me
Ain’t trying to be laid in a box, roses on me
Bronsolino running 5 miles for the glory

Lets go, 20 more to go baby boy
Yo you want that V by the crotch right?
Yeah lets go (I want it) gimme some pushups
Gimme some dips (I can’t no more)
Let me get some jumping jacks
(Gimme a sandwich)
Yeah you want that steak dinner don’t you?
(AAAAH)
Your gonna work that sandwich off now
(I need marshmallows) yeah lets fuckin go
20 more miles, lets go you fat fuck
(ah marshmallows, give it to me)
You motherfucker, you, fuck you!

From philly cheesesteaks
Lobsters on the barbeque
I’m getting twisted eating chicken
With a prostitute
An hour later eat the burger
With my drug dealer
Then add the butter to the fudge
To make the fudge realer
Every five minutes look in the
Fridges as if magic happened
Sneak a cookie, rip the bag
And fix the plastic wrapping
I don’t want know one to know that I took it
Cause I'm an over-eater
(Ay yo ock, ay yo ock
Fry the mayonnaise for me, man)
Life is a smorgasbord to me
And I’ma over do it
I wanna wear Italian clothing but
It just don’t cut it
Not the type that show the
Package with the crystal studded
The shit they model in Milan
That’s looking crispy custom
5 and 6 bitches, lickin’ my dick twitches
Serve up a facial, Mister Belding
Bitches dismiss ‘em
For now I’ll take what I can
Get till this shit switches
Whatever fuck you stupid bitch
Peace to the Drums of Heaven
Peace to beef ribs extended lunch time I eat
Enough for three kids go on a diet
Then fall off because I’m weak kid
Since I was young I’m eatin’
Candy on the sneak tip
My day is based upon fine drugs, cholesterol
Though at my height and weight im
Probably still the best at ball
I’m tatted up
I have no shame to show the chest at all
I bet I have your lady
Humming on my testicles

Yeah, Bronsolino
Bout to be fuckin, summer time in the winter
Shirtless