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Action Bronson - Imported Goods lyrics
[Verse 1:]
 Orlando Magic warm-up suits and black Shaqs
 '95: younger Bronson on the fast track
 To blast gat, now I'm looking past that
 I want the cash stack higher than the NASDAQ
 I put the work in, the downtime I'm cooking lamb
 A thousand Dutches in the air like it's a reefer jam
 Aretha Jan you better R-E-S-P-E-C-T me
 Or risk the forest where the motherfucking resutine be
 Peking duck, and large liver, goose carver
 Swiss Bally's, smoke cigar just like a new father
 You know the motto, jacket to the knee
 I can't help if I'm a fiend, I had to tap into the 
 beat, Lord
 Spark a seance, cause everybody lifted
 I'm like the strainer with the fucking powder being 
 sifted up
 This is Queens Day, alleys where the fiends play
 You cuffed against all the construction, take it easy
 [Hook:]
 This for my people making sales until they back hurt
 See the beast on the creep, they let the Mac squirt
 Bitch on the backs, that do the dippies on the bikes, 
 and
 Loud pipes and rocking leathers like a wild Viking
 My man who just came home, and some are going up
 Fiends up in the alley, sippin Balley fucking throwing 
 up
 Keep your mind straight, focus on the prize
 Always diving into thighs, blowing smoke into the skies
 [Verse 2:]
 Bronsonelli the problem, we got the party reeking
 Never see us starving, all my people hardly speaking
 When it's time, though, we form into a single file
 Spray the fucking ballcourt without hitting a single 
 child
 Hop in the Beamer, Pigeon popping the ninaAction Bronson - Imported Goods - http://motolyrics.com/action-bronson/imported-goods-lyrics.html
 Getting top in a steamer, scoping rock in a Tina
 Hooker, that type of looker eat the pussy from the back
 Take the children to the school, baking cookies, 
 serving packs all day
 Know the verbal, is Oscar-winning
 You cop a squat to piss in, only focused on them rocks 
 that glisten
 Suppositories in the ass of you, the green Fila with a 
 Horsey how this motherfucking bastard do
 Bet the crib that you ain't fucking with this grown man
 I'll E. Honda a thousand, slap you with the whole hand
 Sex a dime, herbally, a blessed time
 Check the rhyme motherfucker, better recognize
[Hook]
 [Verse 3:]
 The eyes slanted from the origami, I roll a quarter of 
 the water
 Near the border, where you oughta find me
 The Tamborine Man pumping while the Tyson burning
 Air Tech Challenge, clay court, checks balance
 Stay endorsing that weak shit, my team spit
 That mean shit, like stepping in some fiend's shit
 Now you sick to your stomach because you stunted
 Word got fronted, another motherfucking jerk confronted
 Post pattern, Lonnie threw the loaf at 'em
 Flushing, motherfucker, keep a toast up by the gold 
 Saturn
 Little doulas on the block we tell 'em "go stab 'em"
 Relieving mother's shoes is easier than toe taggin'
 Carhartt sets and Horseys like the Preakness
 Bronson love a freak bitch, dining on that Greek dish
 That's the a-hole, all my people AWOL
 Cash inside the case and now the judges want to play 
 ball
[Hook]









