[Intro: Action Bronson]
Am I rappin' or what?
I can't hear the headphones, yeah
Turn me up in the headphones
Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay, alright

[Verse 1: Action Bronson]
Jump tumble
Front flips off the roof like a stunt double
My shorty doing kegels for her cunt muscle
Keep her shaped up
The M3 all green fly like a strange duck
My dad was right when he said I was a deranged fuck
Now every meal is calamari and boudin blanc
Saddam Hussein guns
Held by nuns who do drugs
While beige hard bottoms slide on the new rug
Pinky up
The joint thicker than Pinky's butt
Just as stinky
Nick Van Exel with the handle, Helsinki
Eggs Rothko
The handmade suit cloth hang out the sports coat
Twenty three and a half feet on the sports boat
Brown vest made of suede on my torso
Close my eyes, inhale deep, sail free
Blind fury, hoppin' out the braille jeep
Serve me snails to eat
No ham and cheese
I'm tanning
The 540i, color salmon
Smoke a cannon
Push the seat back
Put your feet up
Roll my weed up
[Chorus: Action Bronson]
Why's it feel like my life is movin' fast, yo? (I don't know)
Get your own, don't worry about my cash flow (Bitch)
Need a chick to hide the hammer in her asshole
I need that first class dough (You understand me?)
Yeah, why's it feel like my life is movin' fast, yo? (I don't know)
Get your own, don't worry about my cash flow (That's right)
I need a chick to hide the hammer in her asshole
I need that first class dough

[Verse 2: Big Body Bes]
It's me, Big Body
Who the fuck else?
You gotta pardon my absence, man
I just came back off of vacay, man
Just spent the whole fucking weekend up in Orchard Beach
Livin' the fucking life
I was out there wildin'
Had your moms on the motherfuckin' boogie board
Doing all types of stunts
But now I'm back though, ain't shit changed
Just came back, check my motherfuckin' emails
Got more motherfuckin' deals on the table
Don't even know what the fuck to do now
Shit
(Okay) Oh my God (Okay)
You can still see me though
Out there on Fulton Street, three in the mornin'
Bench pressin' a fiend
Ain't shit changed, still loiterin'
[Verse 3: Mac Miller]
Okay, okay
I'm relyin' on Viacom to keep my lights and fire on
Made a deal with Lucifer, said, "Give me the universe" (Every single planet)
In truth it hurts kinda like losin' your first love
I saw the bright lights and started doin' the worst drugs (Woo)
Now, I'm backtrackin' and hash rappin' with Action
Throwin' hand grenades at paddywagons in passin'
Old fashioned soul grabber snortin' all the coke up
The type of shit to turn a World War into a Polka
Polo'd up, the double RL icon (Yup)
Steppin' out the limo, tuxedos made of python
Listenin' to Lionel Richie, fuckin' with the lights on (Ooh)
Rice on the table, have us goin' all night long (Again, and again, and again)
Rooftops, sippin' on some red wine
Start to realize I've been trippin', shit is just fine (Okay)
So, I read a passage out the Bible as I take a bath
Dry off, hit the Colosseum on Jamaica Ave (Yep)
'Bout to say, "Fuck it," and form a union
March up to city hall and protest pollution (Yes!)