Bag of Money

"Where's the fucking money, shitheaddddddddd?!"

Yo, fucking Paulie TRYBE, man

Get your muthafucking hand out her asshole

We gotta go, fam, we gotta go, kid

Yo, get the whip, get the whip!

I'll take 21st Century poets that's for a thousand

Curly hair or Nubian women get me aroused

To the point I wanna gamble it all

I was smashing from the back

She put her hands on the wall

She couldn't take the thrust

Only lust like a fiend for the dust

Or the pizza from Pezzi, perfect

Want to sleep with the crust

Or the 740 Alpina, leather seats is a must

And my shorty holding a nina

Rolling green in a duuuuuuuuuutch!

Bronsolini, organically I rise to paper

In the purest form, lyrically derived from nature

Like the Amazon, put your cameras on

Watch this muthafucka turn into an animal!

Light stubble, rock the muzzle like Hannibal

Jump off the top of the boat into a cannonball

Hoes with gold teeth, we off the coast of Greece

In under 3 seconds, muthafucka load the piece

Kid, the bag of money coming with me

You muthafucka

The bag of money coming with me

Yeah, the bag of money's coming with me

Muthafucka you

Surprise! Lauren is in the house

I eat fowl birds and keep a hen inside my mouth

Always extra, guest featuring with Dr. Lecter

Like Bald Head Slick, I hold my mic like a scepter

Rest in peace, Guru, son I rep Q-U

Chains on chunk

They looking at me like "who you?!"

These handmade Cubans probably fucking up my posture

Pesto sauce properly drizzled upon my pasta

No imposter, son I'm authentic

Around drugs so much, I'm probably raw scented

Bag of money dips, triceps is all dented

Precise painting pictures

Think about life and then I pen it

Nike Air extraordinaire, it's a cold world, prepare

That's what it is, dad

Winterize your vehicle

I love kicks like Action Bronson loves a reefer pull

Peace to good, bad girls that let us both sleep with you

The bag of bitches coming with me

Word up, son, all the bitches coming with me

Yeah, yo, the bag of bitches coming with me

We go raw son, all the bitches coming with me!

We making babies tonight, nigga

Yeah, smoke what you want, sniff what you want

You wanna have five daddies, you ever have five daddies before?

Ayo, 2010, got 'em buzzing like a beeper

Round table discussion

Conference in Geneva

Leaders at the table, poly over nasal

Forty seven minutes since the time I lit the basil

My rhymes are carte blanche

Liver than the Oscars

Extra virgin olive oil drizzled on the pasta

Fry the bacon, make it sizzle for the chazers

Honor in this thing of ours

Living like the mobsters

Compliments go to the chef and that's the real

My crew of goonies in the joint

We need some extra veal

You know the Caddy got an extra wheel

And if I'm ever in a pickle, I can hand a fucking Tek to Steele

Take aim and knock an apple off your head

And I'm a play like Polamalu

You get tackled for the bread

We're running in your crib

Your shorty shackled to the bed

Money laying on the Persian

Leaking plasma from the lead

And it's on!

The bag of money's coming with me, muthafucka

(It's all coming with us, nahimean?

Outdoorsmen!)

Queens, kid, the bag of money's coming with me

Uptown connection, you fucking pussy

(Word up, man, It's all marvel,

Ya'll niggas know everything is marvel)

Bronsonlini, Bronsolovski, Team Facelift

(Everything we drink, everything we smoke,

Everything we buy, everything we sell

It's all marvel!)

My muthafucking man Shaz

Paulie TRYBE, Paulie Walnuts

(Action Marvel, Meyhem Marvel, nahimean?)

Machine, Fonda, Tommy Guns

(Tommy Marvel, Marvel is everybody's middle name we fuck with

Meyhem Marvel Lauren, it's all marvel

The bag of money's coming with us)