Falside - Imported Goods lyrics

[Action Bronson] [coughs] Oh my god, this mothaf**in' sour is too good I don't even be f**in' with that other sh** That sh** hurts my throat man I need that sh** that tastes like f**in', f**in' soap Joy, Ajax. sh**… ayo, this is what I be doin' on that… [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 jam, you better R-E-S-P-E-C-T me Or risk the forest where the motherf**ing rest your team 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 f**ing powder being sifted up This is Queens Day, alleys where the fiends play Yo cuff the Guess on 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 b**h 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 f**ing 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 f**ing ballcourt without hitting a single child Hop in the Beamer, Pigeon popping the nina Getting top in a steamer, scoping rock in a Tina Hooker, that type of looker eat the p**y 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 a** of you, the green Fila with a Horsey how this motherf**ing ba*tard do Bet the crib that you ain't f**ing 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 motherf**er, 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 sh**, my team spit That mean sh**, like stepping in some fiend's sh** Now you sick to your stomach because you stunted Word got fronted, another motherf**ing jerk confronted Post pattern, Lonnie threw the loaf at 'em Flushing, motherf**er, keep a toast up by the gold Saturn Little doulas on the block we tell 'em "go stab 'em" Relieve him of his shoes, it's easier to toe tag 'em' Carhartt sets and Horseys like the Preakness Bronson love a freak b**h, 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]