Cancion : Choices
Artista : Asher Roth
Album : Pabst & Jazz: Blended Babies & Friends
Url : https://www.letras10.co/letra-choices-de-asher-roth


[Asher Roth]
This shit is jammin' though
In here bloody and muddy
I'm smashin' bottles of bubbly
Run for cover, brother, this thing here b-bout to get ugly
Yup and under a submarine bare as the kitchen cupboard be
Californication, Agent Mulder, David Duchovny
You makin' my Jack a double please
Serve it with the knuckle cheese
Crocodile Hunter and some Buddy Lee Dungarees
Barney Rubble, trouble lover, somethin' Hubble never seen
Floatin' like a butter wing stingin' like a bumble thing
I love it when I hear them scream
Eat it like a tangerine
Make you feel uneasy like your feet up on a trampoline
Don't be so deceivin' with your penis eatin' fantasy
My semen is the meanest
Undefeated when I plant a seed
Hatin on me, hatin on me, wait for my decay
You gon' have to wait bit longer
I won’t ever go away
It’s like they say
You go to Vegas and while most of it will stay
You in dirty with some herpes
Is it worth the price you pay
You deserve it little twerp
On the verge of somethin' great
'Til some overrated lames in the game got in the way
I'ma have to take it over
James and D Wade
It's neither the Black Sheep
Would you look at David Spade
Yeah I'm here to save the day
Caped Crusader, Super 8
If you're squeamish at proceeding I suggest you look away
Yeah, beat it, best believe it when Arena takes the stage
You need a lighter when I feed 'em a liter of Tanqueray
Teething a type of pain, eighteen is the ripest age
Ain't easy to fight the feelin' when dealin' with hype and fame
Leadin' the life of caine
I'll leave him and swipe his chain
Breathin', nice to meet you
Good evening, glad you came

[Action Bronson]
First of all, don't ever say a fuckin' thing about the homie
Call a favor in and leave your dyke mother very lonely
You a phony doggy, holy shit
Know the flow exquis-
Eyes low, one-handed I control the whip
No reservations needed to get the table
I walk in, the chef calls me Chef that's my label
Shaved Ricotta Salada, infuse the oil, basil
Standin' like a man in situations, get disabled
A lot of hundreds in the jacket pocket
Know I blast the rocket, lift you in the air, just like an astronaut is
Lack the passion novice
We play on All-Madden
Old 'Lo jackets, Navajo patterns
Been a grown man since the day I was born
You strange and deformed
You sit at home while I get paid to perform
Now we put em on the Greyhound, eighty-five dollars
Better choose wise bitch
You fuckin' with some scholars
Old Impalas Jumpin' like Rasheed Wallace
Smokin' joints like a barbecue pit
I'm honestly sick
Some would say retarded and shit
My mind sharp cause I eat garlic and shit
Swervin' the whip quick
Little dick


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