Gt Performer Lyrics - Action Bronson

[Intro: Action Bronson] 

It's me, it's me 

Uh, yeah 

[Verse 1: Action Bronson] 

I got the big bag of Skittles, like Marshawn Lynch 

No matter what, we never far from a bench 

Never far from a stoup, never far from a hallway 

Never far from a main street, never far from a Broadway 

Uh, we say fuck what the Law say 

Yeah, I pay the white piano on a beach 

Tryin' to reach a higher place 

I know there's more out there then just us, right? 

So when I fuck, I try to make a doctor with this left nut 

Or the world's greatest opera singer 

Contribute something to this Earth before I leave it 

And come back as some other motherfucker named Steven 

From New Zealand 

That don't smoke trees; you know that I'm a fiend 

That's not gonna work; I hope it's just a dream, shit 

There's shark on the menu 

As I embark on this mission, to go cop pays 

From one-seven-three [???] 

Five-hundred dimes, bodies stashin' by the P-P 

Six-hundred pounds combined 

Stuffed like peppers in a Z-three 

I used to ride the pegs on a GT Performer 

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[Hook: Smoke DZA] 

Back of a GT Perfomer 

[Verse 2: Green R. Fieldz] 

I burn wood, can't use no pussy heat to warm my chow with 

Sleepin' on us, then we pinnin' back your fuckin' eyelids 

If you don't wanna taste my food, then I'm fuckin' wild'n 

I'm tryin' to get to the millions, what you speak on is childish 

Big Lebowski with a pistol and a purpose 

Open it up and stitch it back just like a surgeon 

My plant size and structure'll leave you wordless 

Chain-smokin' Skittles like I'm nervous 

Your tree is worthless 

Hottest strain in the game, I know you heard it 

But still in the lab on some nerd shit 

They used to label me a drug lord 

Hundred packs in hot summers 

I put up 'em in hands, now I got a brand 

And we made it look easy 

So when I say that I did it, these motherfuckers don't believe me 

I talk shit, but still 'bout that action, like Bronson 

And never let 'em do me like they did Nucky Thompson 

Word 

Photos 

[Hook: Smoke DZA] 

Back of a GT Perfomer 

Uh, smokin' some strong marijuana 

Right 

[Verse 3: Smoke DZA] 

Uh, I'm sick with the grammar, the Harlem glamour 

The boys try to slander, I'm hater-proof with the banter 

Laundry bag fulls of P's like I'm Santa 

Green thumb, green hand like I'm Bruce Banner 

Keep my homie close, he a loose cannon 

I'm duecey slammin' them shots back 

In the gamblin' spot, 'laxed 

Ramblin 'Pac raps 

The highest nigga breathin', in some Y-3 boots 

Your whole style see-through 

Keep it a hundred is what you hardly do 

Shit, I'm godly, dude 

On my '80s Heavy Metal, bumpin' Mötley Crüe 

Mix the Skittle with the Cookie, no [?] 

Level I'm on, you'll never get here, even with Bosley 

Too sweet in my [?], they think it's Illuminati 

They ain't even seen [?] probably 

The room cloudy 

Bad bitch, I'mma pipe her like Rowdy Rowdy 

Shit, this bud got me drowsy 

[Hook: Smoke DZA] 

Back of a GT Perfomer 

Uh, smokin' some strong marijuana 

Some strong marijuana