| This shit is jammin' though
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| In here bloody and muddy
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| I’m smashin' bottles of bubbly
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| Run for cover, brother, this thing here b-bout to get ugly
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| Yup and under a submarine bare as the kitchen cupboard be
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| Californication, Agent Mulder, David Duchovny
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| You makin' my Jack a double please
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| Serve it with the knuckle cheese
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| Crocodile Hunter and some Buddy Lee Dungarees
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| Barney Rubble, trouble lover, somethin' Hubble never seen
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| Floatin' like a butter wing stingin' like a bumble thing
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| I love it when I hear them scream
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| Eat it like a tangerine
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| Make you feel uneasy like your feet up on a trampoline
|
| Don’t be so deceivin' with your penis eatin' fantasy
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| My semen is the meanest
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| Undefeated when I plant a seed
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| Hatin on me, hatin on me, wait for my decay
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| You gon' have to wait bit longer
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| I won’t ever go away
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| It’s like they say
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| You go to Vegas and while most of it will stay
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| You in dirty with some herpes
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| Is it worth the price you pay
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| You deserve it little twerp
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| On the verge of somethin' great
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| 'Til some overrated lames in the game got in the way
|
| I’ma have to take it over
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| James and D Wade
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| It’s neither the Black Sheep
|
| Would you look at David Spade
|
| Yeah I’m here to save the day
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| Caped Crusader, Super 8
|
| If you’re squeamish at proceeding I suggest you look away
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| Yeah, beat it, best believe it when Arena takes the stage
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| You need a lighter when I feed 'em a liter of Tanqueray
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| Teething a type of pain, eighteen is the ripest age
|
| Ain’t easy to fight the feelin' when dealin' with hype and fame
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| Leadin' the life of caine
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| I’ll leave him and swipe his chain
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| Breathin', nice to meet you
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| Good evening, glad you came
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| First of all, don’t ever say a fuckin' thing about the homie
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| Call a favor in and leave your dyke mother very lonely
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| You a phony doggy, holy shit
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| Know the flow exquis-
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| Eyes low, one-handed I control the whip
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| No reservations needed to get the table
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| I walk in, the chef calls me Chef that’s my label
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| Shaved Ricotta Salada, infuse the oil, basil
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| Standin' like a man in situations, get disabled
|
| A lot of hundreds in the jacket pocket
|
| Know I blast the rocket, lift you in the air, just like an astronaut is
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| Lack the passion novice
|
| We play on All-Madden
|
| Old 'Lo jackets, Navajo patterns
|
| Been a grown man since the day I was born
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| You strange and deformed
|
| You sit at home while I get paid to perform
|
| Now we put em on the Greyhound, eighty-five dollars
|
| Better choose wise bitch
|
| You fuckin' with some scholars
|
| Old Impalas Jumpin' like Rasheed Wallace
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| Smokin' joints like a barbecue pit
|
| I’m honestly sick
|
| Some would say retarded and shit
|
| My mind sharp cause I eat garlic and shit
|
| Swervin' the whip quick
|
| Little dick |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Choices (feat. Asher Roth) , by - Action Bronson. Song from the album Blue Chips 1 & 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп