9-24-11
Action Bronson, Party Supplies
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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 bla bla bla bla F*ck, 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… F*ck 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 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!
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Written by: ARIYAN ARSLANI
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"9-24-11 Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/26422358/Action+Bronson/9-24-11>.
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