Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Medusa, artist - Action Bronson. Album song Pearls, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 08.08.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: The Fly
Song language: English
Medusa |
| Marvel at the marble, marvelous mahogany floors |
| I need mosaics on the vases, evasive |
| Faces of Medusa what I’m used to, complacent |
| Sharp as a lance, on point like a lancet |
| Enhancements, handmade ceramics antique standards |
| Speaking Spanish, a patient man’s antics |
| Reserved parking spots in the lots behind behind the annex |
| Bands for the buffies alias upon my amex |
| She begging me to trust her on a hammock popping xanax |
| The money was the buffer that absorbed the most damage |
| Unscathed, Willie not a scratch upon my armour |
| Sipping Arnold Palmer camouflaging, karma came to get me |
| Get me Guatemalan bitches, we in the Galapagos |
| Guava in my vodka, some guap for the zapatos, throwed |
| Humping hoes, my humble abode |
| Twin wood grain refrigerators, stainsless steel stoves |
| Sterling silver silverware, I’m dancing on these bitches |
| New beamers, semi-automatics in the Bally |
| Duffle definite, hustle more steam muscles pay the mortgage |
| Money orders Corrlinks, push button Porsches |
| Portraits, gorgeous |
| Scary like the mortuary terrace, carry grudges like the rabies |
| Reliable blades, rap rabbi, double chop ribeye |
| Live from Roppongi, you punk motherfuckers, (my) chain |
| Dangle like a bungee cord, whores fall to my feet |
| Undefeated, undisputed, deeply rooted |
| Ayo this spliff look like a shrimp with a shit |
| Spent a grip on the droptop whip with the lip |
| If I was black my waves would spin |
| Better than a day would win |
| Got the burnt autumn follicles engraved in chin |
| My knife-work like Hiroyuki Sakai |
| Vocals got me all expenses paid, boat trips to Dubai |
| Fly Emirates, now the shorty’s thighs spreading |
| On bedding, they got a hundred thousands threading counts |
| It’s 10am and I’m already on my seventh ounce |
| 10:30 I be up inside my pigeon’s house |
| When it strikes noon, light the flute |
| Bite the fruit, inspired by the loot |
| Throw your mamma off the roof |
| Then got upset cause I spill soda on my shoe |
| These are shark, now I guess I gotta wear 'em to the park |
| While I’m shooting jumpers with the arc |
| Olive oil voice, poise |
| Pipe the Caucasoid, until the whore make a joyful noise |
| Fill the void, my head embroidered in the coin |
| The gun and the groin interjoin |
| I moist the woman’s loins, Helen of Troy, I’m a sex toy |
| Mama’s boy, foreign car convoy |
| The chrome of the alloy, annoy that’s an asteroid |
| To bring the black boy laughter and joy |
| Hoping in Utopia, the flow this is opium |
| You bagging bush weed, I’m clone like a Kush seed |
| You fleed as the bullets are freed at good foot speed |
| And breeze, the need to see you bleed is appeased |
| Victory is seized, the displeased live with the disease |
| Please give me 40 feet like a centipede |
| Look distinctive, the link that’s a nigga trinket |
| My slut twenty-five she lust to be fingered |
| Lick off a shot, call it cunnilingus |
| Kinda cunning, we’ve come to an agreement |
| Sign off on that in the morning |
| It all looks good |
| My lawyer’s talking right |
| About 700,00 |