Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Not Enough Words , by - Action Bronson. Song from the album Well Done, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 21.11.2011
Record label: Dcide
Song language: English
Not Enough Words |
| Statik Selektah |
| Playing through the broken ankles, man |
| Never sit down, cause I’mma stand up |
| Book a ticket to the tropics cause I’m through with all the shit |
| That I’m living every day, in the mirror saying why me? |
| Hide my eyes cause I’m sickened with the image |
| Of using marijuana, sipping vintage for the time being |
| My skills set is very serious, in fact |
| Spit a wild rap, carve a steak right off the cow’s back |
| Throw it on the grill, I’m cooking in a suit |
| Same shit that’s on the grill gave me leather for the boot |
| If they make me take the stand then I’m lying through my teeth though |
| Ask to swear to God but in that I don’t believe though |
| My man Stevie Mo playing safety for Toledo |
| Hustle 'til my fingers staying cheesy like a cheeto |
| Shorty on the bed pleasuring my pee pee |
| Smart crew TCN, lyrical graffiti |
| Drug roll precise, like a hooker with the dice |
| Butcher with the knife, you get tooken for your life |
| So much to say it’s so little time and shitty |
| Killer Queens the borough, New York be the city |
| Coming crazy out your mouth will get your split up like a philly |
| Running through the maze like I’m Willie, you gotta feel me |
| I’m moving forward cause nothing’s gonna be the same |
| Eyes blurry from the smoke, I can’t see the lane |
| Swerving heavy, bottle in my lap |
| I’m looking for a problem so I’m modeling the gat |
| Somebody save me, cause I don’t wanna go to jail |
| I’d rather be up in the mansion for the polo sale |
| But I’m here, stuck inside my thoughts |
| I’m tryna have a bag of money stuffed inside my shorts |
| My life is like a movie, Blizzard with the shottie |
| Hookah house on Roosie chilling in the lobby |
| Yes I’m living gnarly, the 40 ounce of Barley |
| Open up cigars and fill 'em with a bunch of Marley |
| Double cut porterhouse straight from Luger’s |
| Ruger for intruders hand to hand made by the duelers |
| Ginger ale in Knicks glasses, your style is piss mothafucka |
| Time to flip the mattress, kick it swift as Cassius |
| My mind is stronger than Mariusz Pudzianows |
| Obvious to see I’m a star straight off the couch |
| You rapping with a blouse, you get slapped up side the mouth |
| By the Zangief look-a-like, Bronson always cooking right |
| Spray the vinegar to tighten up a yummy |
| Smoking got me squinting like the sky is high and sunny |
| Attachment on the nozzle make the iron fire funny |
| Never stop until my body diving in a pile of money |
| I’m always smoking like a gunshot |
| You know the fuzzy light green, call it Dunlop, flow nun’s twat |
| Many hours, one man standing, one spot |
| From the morning to the mothafuckin' sun drop |
| Cause I’m one with the Earth, eyes red |
| Mothafucka I’ve been blunted since birth, age 9 |
| Mom dukes kept the gun in the purse, next to the hair spray |
| Fuck tomorrow, money coming in the fast way |