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letra de night court produced don producci - action bronson

behind door one:
there’s three things: greed, fortune and fame
door two:
you might be happy but n0body know your name
door three:
the bacon got you squatting naked by the razor fence
door four:
you on the bench and got the drugs inside your favourite tims

cause on the road to riches, there ain’t no time for getting sidetracked
pump in the trunk if you frontin’ punkin’ you lie flat –
down on the pavement
diamond laser engraved it
wasting all of my time and then wondering where my days went
i’m 26 but still i’m feeling like a senior
i’m only two years removed from leaning in the beamer now
some friends ain’t friends no more, i guess they jealous
problems with baby mama constantly been like a relish to my
neck fresh on the set live in the flesh
rhymin the best
yo bronsolini fans see hymen and breast
talking sushi grade
my flow is linen and the shoes are suede
the wooden cutting board is right where the prosciutto laid
that’s for the first course
the core burst off and hail
we’ll be in h-ll but n0body trying to see the cell
tonight we living life until we say goodnight

breathe on the mic my flow knock the knees of a knight

my time always the right time
i’m surfing getting wavy
like hawaiians on the pipeline, i’m never in my right mind
zagat rated thirty foot decor
the food and service
hey the blow is chopped up on the plate yo peace to curtis
never nervous cause i’m ready
went from leaning in the german now we swerving in the chevy
artichokes cover spaghetti
can’t begin to fathom how i pair the words and form the sentences
pierre cardere described in bold print on the lenseses
one leaf, half of the dutch combat the cancer
peace to elton john cause in the jacket got the tiny dancer
ready to tango
extra clips inside the pouch just like the creature on the kangol
paint that precious sh-t like van gogh
mango, that’s for the l-ssi
i love when b-tches s-ssy
sl-tty nasty, and let me smash it in the taxi
then i give her a german brunch
and now she turning stunts
since 16 six times a day i’m burning blunts

i wanna live the life the twenty beamers gleaming shorty steaming rice
and then the fluff all burnt my p-n-s shoot the s-m-n twice in the face
flyest of steaks, got my eyes on the papes
rhyme b-tter lake you know my grading be prime on the steak
aged to perfection, that’s how i like the veno
we rolling ceelo
throw like marino
cruise in the regal
in overdrive like my libido
i’m stroking like i’m michael phelps into the p-ssy fetal
it’s bronsolino

just like the dutch up
leather loaf and mash the clutch up
we getting f-cked up
i make the motherf-cker beam a [?] up
h-llish capers and now i’m scoring more than celtic lakers
kicking like messi now we overlooking gorgeous acres
in my defence it’s like the ’85 bears
there’s no jail tales
poetry emotion like i’m gale sayers
before maguire took his first needle
yo we been looking fly and faucet fiends in corners in the bird fetal –
positioning i know you hear me but not listening
we glistening i rock a jacket made for fishermen
the buccaneer for nutritional and a buck of deer
create a hash vat and bake it off, cut a square
tonne of flair like rick i hold the pick
and plus i smoke a stick of heavy marijuana when i pose for fl1ck
get off the d-ck because we busting now
and when we come we eating crepes, you know we order up a dozen now

- action bronson

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