Lyrics Not Enough Words - Statik Selektah , Action Bronson
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
already
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
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