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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Action Bronson
Vocals
Meyhem Lauren
Vocals
Curt Chambers
Electric Guitar
Big Body Bes
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Ariyan Arslani
Lyrics
B Sadikay
Lyrics
Alan Maman
Composer
James W. Rencher
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ryan West
Mixing Engineer
The Alchemist
Producer
Justin Smith
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Yo pass me the ball, fool
You better fucking pick me, man, straight the fuck up, I'll roof this shit
Fucking 360 on this pussy
I don't give a fuck
I'll kick this mother fucking ball over the fence then I'll go home
No shoes on
[Verse 2]
I know you see me on the TV looking like a hunk of beef
When I smile your baby mama shit her Dungarees
Somebody get the kid a deal, he sound like me
But nah sonny don't get down like me
The falcon flies back to the glove when I whistle
Don't try to put me in the box like a tissue
'Cause I push you in the box with a pink suit
Then fuck around and have some squid ink soup, bitch
[Verse 3]
Ah, man there's so much fucking hash in this joint right now son
[Verse 4]
Uh, you ain't a legend like Yanni
I'm so queens like a Roy Wilkins t-shirt
With one arm shredded and one arm missing
Dog I was born with Allah's vision
I learned quick I couldn't follow suit
'Cause the devil put the pork inside the dollar soup
Now I'm sitting in first class with a hard dick
Listening to German guitar riffs what a life
I was made like the beginning of Jurassic Park
When they took the fucking blood from the mosquito
With a dope needle, then they shot it in a wild lion, 1983
I popped out holding an iron with a visor on
[Verse 5]
Yeah, uh, yeah
Videos are like a Jewish summer camp promo
Your ideas lack adobo
[Verse 6]
Yo, silk cinder blocks, cinnamon socks
On the low like a whip without shocks
I bag bitches in flocks
Representative for everything official
Y'all **** can't live so it's officially an issue
Waterproof penmanship, padded on a rugby
Hammer in the hamper case a **** try to thug me
I'm an idol, my wave is tidal forget survival
Treat the last record I broke just like a rival
Uh, I'm New York before it turned into a bike lane
Never had a light fame split the pipe cane
It was written but I wrote it
Put religion right on my neck and then I froze it
Laurenovitch, yeah
[Verse 7]
3:36 in the morning
Location a drug infested area Brooklyn New York
What am I doing? Standing on an unidentified corner
With a Latin individual, corn rows, Foamposites
All sorts of a felony in his waist
But who are you?
[Verse 8]
She only love me when I'm naked
Written by: Alan Maman, Ariyan Arslani, B Sadikay, James Rencher, John Wrencher