[Intro] Where all the good songs have gone WCBS FM [Verse 1: Action Bronson] Rocking all green outfits, the budder look like Sun Chips s** my son's dick, we in the street like a bum's sh** Bury me on Kissena I'm riding low like a centipede in the Beamer Million-dollar belt, precious facial features Acid in the f**ing headband, get the bedpan I'm sh**ting on myself, and you're the one who gotta clean it While I lay there, just to get some Ray-Bans? sh** 800 dollars just for play pants Don't try to touch me with those AIDs hands Raise my performance fee to 80 grand Hipster b**hes, they p**y smell like seitan/Satan I'm glad I ate lamb Smoke something Got me f**ing...Got me hot in here, man f**, b**h, ah sh**, yo [Verse 2: Action Bronson] The kid caught herpes from the Rabbi Yacob from 165, with the bad eye Drug deal transportation was a cab ride Displayed on the mantle was a bra** lion Ma** from Ireland, give you a casket to lie up in While an Asian man play the violin He was taught from age 2, never miss a note Brought his sister in the bathroom to sh** the coke out I cop the Audi with the poke out 700 thousand dollars at the smokehouse Drugs in my lungs f** [Bridge] Fast money 'til we die, peep the resume Hang-glide into the boat, get my cheddar notes Keep the shotty in the leather coat Motherf**er, better know X2 [Verse 3: Meyhem Lauren] Many nights I shot dice in the drug den My raps permeate from a thug's pen, and love when I think about my purpose in life, keep soft mouths slurping precise These b**hes love us We named Pit Bulls after hard liquor (Hennessy!) Turn the knife in the wound, make it scar thicker sh**, we still wear jean shorts Veteran, playing these mean sports What up Dab? This ain't boom bap, homie it's doom rap And your career sh** couldn't compare with Bronsoline and Laurenivici, write fly rhymes and sky dive from Mount Fiji That's word to my parachute Old money still flows, last chapter loot Firearms and novelty beverages Keep drama riddled with hemorrhages We good though