Action Bronson - The Madness [Lyrics]

Album: Dr. Lecter (2011)
Genre: East Coast Hip-Hop
LYRICS
Hey yo you ready? Yeah I'm ready right, the fast life
Gettin' twisted almost every night
My mind is deeper than the voice featured on Barry White
I'm not the married type
I make acidic vinegar to get the candy tight
I'm flattered at all the chatter and comparisons
To the great, soon to see me right on Madison
Bally sneakers tryna stay up out the vat of sins
I tout the tacky shit, I'm like a wild Iraqi
Outdoors with my sport vest, leather on the shoulder
Hold the rifle in place, knife in your face
I'm out the world just like a lightnin' in space
The ice sculptures on the table goin' nice with the plates of grapes
This is madness, certified madness
Rappin' like a bandit, servin' my advantage
Singlehandedly slam you to the canvas
Marijuana leaves are gettin' wrapped just like a bandage
Fuck the love, I want the money and the pussy
Brazilian bitches, names tatted on their tushie
You're a man dressed as a woman, call him Tootsie
I'm in the corner with a hooker playing footsie
Phone in my hands at all times like I'm a pimp, fuck shrimp
We eat steak, wine and cheese plate
Bronsolin' the name is ringin' out in each state
Play it cool or taste the weapon, time to meet fate
My feet slide just like a hockey player
Eatin' yakitori, gettin' hammered in the sake lair
Sucky sucky, happy endin' shower
Wifey makin' dinner, I'll be home about an hour
Crush the sour, dutches from the Netherlands
My rollin' skills is undefeated yo you'll never win
I bring the devil in, Bronson over his benevolence
Polo fitted with a leather grip
This is madness, certified madness
Rappin' like a bandit, servin' my advantage
Singlehandedly slam you to the canvas
Marijuana leaves are gettin' wrapped just like a bandage
I wash my dick in the sink right when I wake up
Twisted from the night before, raw inside a frightening whore
Hop in the whip and go for breakfast
Fried eggs and prime steak that's straight from out of Texas
Damn I'm livin' reckless, smokin' all day just like the brisket
My beard is golden brown just like a biscuit
Everyday I'm thinkin' "Should I risk it?", add another number to statistics
Or use the breast milk to eat my Crispix
I'll feed her coke for a dick suck
Put a fuckin' Roman candle up in this bitch butt
Now it's on the computer, got the pussy moister than Bermuda
Pop a hole right through her throat, that's no joke cause I'ma shoot her
(Yeah damn, yo fuck yo? Three verses ain't enough anymore these days man? Fuck!)
This shit is rawer than a tuna on a plate for eighty dollars
Or the sex that I be havin' though I hate my baby mama
It's always drama, she got too much time on her hands
Watch the tyrant steady planning a plot on your man
My eyes are open like an owl though
Animosity, tryna get the paper, sour dough
But if I die before the hour go
Just place the Ballys on my feet and smoke my body like a pharaoh hoe
Egyptian fixtures, fatties by the Colosseum
Guns from Russia, I turn 'em to a ballerina
Cop the work then they baggin' coke
Transportin' interstate, Carolina to Tobacco Road
To the knee or to the ankle where the jacket go
Master flow word now so I got cash to blow
When I'm older leather on a rugby shoulder
I'm top doggin' if I'm lyin' may they slump me over
Bronsolinio
Queens
Flushin'
Outdoorsmen
Y'already know
It's over