Body Language Action Bronson (Ft. Science)

[Intro: Action Bronson]
Yeah

[Verse 1: Action Bronson]
Hey yo
It's the aggressor with the nickle plated pressure
Hit you hard like London Fletcher, leave you sleeping on the stretcher
Action Osama ain't the one to play games with
Ain't shit changed dick, I'm still the same with the same click, prick
Cross your legs when you sit down in the chair
My nuts are there, rape your mother live in despair
We'll take the candy out your daughters mouth
Order up a porterhouse, smoke a quarter ounce
Cores at the Norvin House, corner standing below three
Frozen cheeks, frozen feet
Niggas holding heat cause its a cold street
Heavy bearded blowing blunts the face, roll another blunt to chase
Roasted perfection perfectly done to taste
Old and new it's Nike zooted like a lunar flight
Been blowing Buddha right, I never eat the tuna, sike
Both fists are gloved up, you dumb fuck
Get left in dump trucks, when I commence the duck hunt
Two o'clock you hear the cannon pop, right outside the Spanish spot
Converted the drug den we call the cannon spot
Grab the money out the safe, shoot him in the waist
Just a little taste, before I finish off his face
Sports drop lightly breaded like a pork chop
Drug and gems, money stashed it in the floor spot
Barry Bronson shooting juice before the Mitchell Report
Never snitching in court, we blitzing the fort
All my niggas pitching for sport
Putting up Clemen numbers, four bitches shit in the bag
And now there's seven Hummers