Driving Gloves
[Intro: Action Bronson]
Leather driving glove rap
Straight up
Totes, toke that
[Verse 1: Action Bronson]
Fuck sales, on the road to getting rich off of touring
And that's one thing for sure, like a shit in the morning
Shit, never a cold toilet (never)
I need a bitch with a pussy like a little league glove
I’m the epitome of, all fly shit jacket to the shoe sole
Two shooters, Flanagan, Caruso (Irish)
Fly girl stuffed the drug in her caboose-o
'I see Bronson in the chartreuse coupe mo'
My eyes sparkle like a diva's mirror
Make dykes reconsider how they fishing in the river
Leave your sister, sit n shiver
Bagels catered, lox, no socks, blue drop
Spanish bitches on the boardwalk, tube top
Old school shit, nuttin' in a tube sock
Safe to say you ain’t much without your crew, hop
My time is now like a new watch, it’s me
[Verse 2: The Alchemist]
Lumberjack rumble in the jungle
Live from the bungalow where I package a rap bundle
Straight funnel, sugar cakes, I’mma bumble
Bee that’ll sting you and flee without a rumble
Hand sanitary, shooters on the team, Danny Ferry
Fettuccine bars, pot belly
Double-G Bronsonelli on the radio and the telly
I chop like the Habibi at the deli
Slice precision, your wife’s a pigeon
I’m a chicken-hawk, hungry for a victim
Wires trip 'em, blow the woofers out the system
Non-exist 'em, take away the shine and eclipse 'em
I’m ‘bout to do a song with Bono
Pockets Trump like I just struck the lottery, lotto
Just me and you, mano a mano
Joints buckle, knees wobble
Pussy, you sweet like Peach cobble
[Verse 3: Oh No]
Uh, look, hey
I’m as far as the stars have told
I’m trying to clock a few mill before a nigga gets old
Heart is cold, froze from the ice and a whole arctic pole
Bang my old art out of a Bose, I suppose
Doing speeds like I’m in a Maserati
But I’m really in a Mazda getting high with a hottie
Probably too high to drive, Fear n Loathing in the body
All I see is lights flashing like I’m at a Vegas party
Benicio, circle around my eyes
Feel like I ain’t slept, for about twenty nights
You look like you just fell down forty flights
I keep a shorty right cause Oh ain’t nothing nice!
I got a bitch to put the heel to the pedals metal
With shit hotter than the devil's kettle
Never settle, get the gloves for the handle
Shit, I put the fire to 'em, watch 'em melt like a candle
It’s on!