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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | Cocoa Butter |
Album: | Well Done | Genres: | Urban |
Year: | 2011 |
Length: | 284 sec |
Lyricist: www.BPMsupreme.com
Lyrics:
[Produced by: Statik Selektah]
[Intro:] Yeah, Bronson (Nina Sky) This my mothafuckin' game man I don't give a fuck what nobody says no more No more playing the sidelines (Yeah)
[Verse 1:] Albanian style: rock leathers in the sand I’ll shoot my cousin for nothing: dominant man Go visit fam with no problems - on some normal shit Straight from Skopje, Macedonia, the floral lit Licorice liquor, one cube, a touch of water Watch it mix, turn white like the Duchess' daughter I’m in the corner puffing Ganja with the musky odor Destination back of your throat - cup of soda Uh. This is Bam Bam Bigelow, Queens to Asbury Park connect: Figaro My uniform Carhartt sweats and Gore-tex athletic horses on my chest and on my short sets The Leslie Nielsen of the weed and the words This is Action Bronsolinni, 33 and the 3rd, kid Naked gun, the serial is scratched off Armed like Rocket in his prime, blast off
[Hook: Nina Sky] On and on, push it through, we won Never stop till the day we there On and on, push it through, we won Never stop till the day we there
[Verse: 2] Push your seat back. The Rickey Henderson of rap Jets hat, underneath a little blubber lie the 6 pack Summer time I cop the musket with the kick back Then sit back, stand up, eyes low, hit that This happens continuously throughout the night Now my eyes are like diamonds, that’s looking blue-ish in the light Like a prism, shooting out hope, honor, and optimism Never stop it till we're coastal on the aqua mission Reach my hand in the water and grab a tuna Silhouette you see reflection of light, right off the Mezzaluna That’s a half moon, wavy like my man’s fade The European carry-all. Color: tan, suede Handmade, hand blades, carve up your features, I’m a creature Section 39 - I’m in the bleachers Fiends get washed up like turtles on the beaches It’s mating season make the verbal for your speakers
[Hook: Nina Sky] On and on, push it through, we won Never stop till the day we there On and on, push it through, we won Never stop till the day we there
[Verse: 3] Ill prosciutto. legend, Phil Rizzuto Marijuana like the pussy, I keep it crudo That’s raw, now I declare war You in the women’s league I show you how a man score Look at my beard and my body like a grizzly I’m shoulder pressing 3 plates Obama - EBT. I'm a G. Supermarket sweepstakes Still drinking vintage out the bottle with the cheese plate The Derek Harper with the low Caesar, flow fever More than likely digging in your ho's beaver Drug smoke to my neck just like a turkey Dough dirty, make your brother do a curtsy. no mercy, Van Buren cop Hershey Square Tyson and I’m in the mountains eating rare bison Clam chowder, you ain't fucking with this man-power Straight from Queens, where we're known to make your plans sour
[Hook: Nina Sky] On and on, push it through, we won Never stop till the day we there On and on, push it through, we won Never stop till the day we there
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