Nana (feat. Action Bronson)
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Introducin' Chance the Ruthless, trip 'shrooms and lucy
Dreams is lucid, loosely based on music, swallow my mucus
Hope your pussy get herpes and yo' ass get lupus
Deuces douches, deuce, deuce I'll shoot ya (Bang)
Shoes might boot cha and a suit might suit cha'
They be on bullshit but they really don't do shit
The use of illusion, could confuse Confuscius
Nasty, ashy, cigarette ashing, 'til my voice get raspy
Last week suspended, last night kissed Va$htie
Parleyed with Ashley, always in the hallway
So I never been classy (Hahaha)
Shut up
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
(Aah, aah, aah, aah!)
Acid acid, get it? Acid
Melts through plastic, I spit fired
Pad my palette, talkin' paper
If this was work, I'd get higher-ed
Pardon my mishaps, burp and get murdered
Fart and get bitch-slapped, like Bourbon mixed with jack
Lickety-split, lickety-slipped on a shell
From peelin' banana-split backs, give me my Kit-Kat
Don't break me off shit, batch, fack is you mean bitch?
Xan with that lean bitch, zan with that lean bitch
Zen with that chakra, I eat it like Idi Amin
Ya know what I mean, hit me back when that mean shit (Shut up)
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
(Aah, aah, aah, aah!) Now, now, now, now
Introducin', It's Bronsonlino
With my hair slicked back, I look like Rick Pitino
Three Japanese dykes in my El Camino (Haha)
Lettin' trees blow, oh, I rep the East Coast
I got a team of hoes like Pat Summit
I look like Arnold Schwarzenegger in a black hummer (Get to the chopper)
I splash summer like a fast brother, with a number on his back
Ain't no fumblin', in fact, I'm back, acid in my hat
Shoot then pass the gat, it's at the bottom of the river in a plastic bag
My new shawty got a gymnastic back
Eighty seven emerald green on a classic jag, uh
She had the cleft palate, I ordered chef's salad (Okay)
She had the club foot (What else?), with that little arm (Hahaha)
I couldn't help but laugh, she ordered Chicken Parm
I had the full Bulls warm-up with the Pippens on, it's me
(Ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne)
Suck my motherfucking dick, it's the young Randy Velarde
Queens, baby (Ah, ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne)
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Introducin' Chance the Ruthless, trip 'shrooms and lucy
Dreams is lucid, loosely based on music, swallow my mucus
Hope your pussy get herpes and yo' ass get lupus
Deuces douches, deuce, deuce I'll shoot ya (Bang)
Shoes might boot cha and a suit might suit cha'
They be on bullshit but they really don't do shit
The use of illusion, could confuse Confuscius
Nasty, ashy, cigarette ashing, 'til my voice get raspy
Last week suspended, last night kissed Va$htie
Parleyed with Ashley, always in the hallway
So I never been classy (Hahaha)
Shut up
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
(Aah, aah, aah, aah!)
Acid acid, get it? Acid
Melts through plastic, I spit fired
Pad my palette, talkin' paper
If this was work, I'd get higher-ed
Pardon my mishaps, burp and get murdered
Fart and get bitch-slapped, like Bourbon mixed with jack
Lickety-split, lickety-slipped on a shell
From peelin' banana-split backs, give me my Kit-Kat
Don't break me off shit, batch, fack is you mean bitch?
Xan with that lean bitch, zan with that lean bitch
Zen with that chakra, I eat it like Idi Amin
Ya know what I mean, hit me back when that mean shit (Shut up)
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na
(Aah, aah, aah, aah!) Now, now, now, now
Introducin', It's Bronsonlino
With my hair slicked back, I look like Rick Pitino
Three Japanese dykes in my El Camino (Haha)
Lettin' trees blow, oh, I rep the East Coast
I got a team of hoes like Pat Summit
I look like Arnold Schwarzenegger in a black hummer (Get to the chopper)
I splash summer like a fast brother, with a number on his back
Ain't no fumblin', in fact, I'm back, acid in my hat
Shoot then pass the gat, it's at the bottom of the river in a plastic bag
My new shawty got a gymnastic back
Eighty seven emerald green on a classic jag, uh
She had the cleft palate, I ordered chef's salad (Okay)
She had the club foot (What else?), with that little arm (Hahaha)
I couldn't help but laugh, she ordered Chicken Parm
I had the full Bulls warm-up with the Pippens on, it's me
(Ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne)
Suck my motherfucking dick, it's the young Randy Velarde
Queens, baby (Ah, ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne)
Credits
Writer(s): Brandon Rudolph, Chancelor Jonathan Bennett
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.