PF Cuttin - Bronson Mania lyrics

[Verse 1: Action Bronson] Ayyo hit or miss shorty wake up shorty sh** the fish Razor sniff, leave the pocket when you see the Blitz You never know the type of pickle you in Till you wake up in a cell and nuts will tickle your chin It's Vinny Gorgeous with the sinister grin And if it wasn't for the d** I'd probably be in the gym If I'm not up in the studio, I'm up in your wife If you had a bigger package she'd be up in your life In 93' I had to cop me the Flights, started plottin the heist So I cop me a knife, these sneakers cost a hundred forty duke I'm stoppin' your life, better yet I'll cut your co*k off with the choppin device You never know it could be you up on the table Emergency rush in will pull your bladder through your navel Special pants cover that feces bag, another man rockin that chain And the piece he had, We k** the cow carve it for the proper preparations Braise the leg sir the loin make the brisket Cajun Rib eye prime prefer you leave the bone in, the tomahawk chop is only meant for grown men Zonin sequin shirts with the stone gems I'll never have it duke, i'd rather let the chrome sin Equip for the rip, you f*ggot pussies sit where you piss These queens k**ers hit the strip with the sniff, b**h Roll up the gra** crazy willy man will stuff your a** With a gerbil, serve your girl a custard mask Crush the gla**, dip my fist and step inside the ring Inside the bing,p**y ran he tried to hide the thing Come through to the courts, a hundred down from any spot Dribble shoot, the penny drop just like a henny shot You look astonished, face twisted like a Twizzler My people laughin cause they know we goin sizzler Purpose to life, prestige p**y plenty paper Steam risin off Jacuzzi women different flavors Whips are major, sh**s aggressive like a vicious saber You trick the paper, tell your b**h that I'mma hit it later Accurate palm strikes, on like disposition, John Stockton I'm scoring and I'm also dishin Magic long night pipe with no intermission Put on the DL, Tommy John no more pitchin This is Queens watch words, just like Persian Jissepe Dishdo Automatic with the conversion You never know might be the next to meet the surgeon Split like a pig, and left you bleedin like a virgin Inhaler of smoke the fine chronic conoisseur We Bobba Ghanoush the tan colored pile of Raw The humus and bread, olives from another land And f** a burger, i'd rather eat the mother lamb I'm Royce Gracie the magician of submission, elegance in the kitchen My ambition ain't to glisten, but yo, f** all the j**elery sh** Provide me with a sturdy whip, a package on the dirty b**h Titty size a 36, 30 dicks what she takin in a single sittin Silk and linin what I'm sportin when the Eagles winnin Yo bet the oval, cause the corners are a little iffy In a minute turn a macho man a little sissy I'm never pissy, all the women wanna kiss the Flushin grizzly, heavy but they never diss me Cause I be in and out of p**y like a stream of piss Gleam the wrist, nah f** it, rather steam the bliss