Time For Some Lyrics - Well Done - Statik Selektah & Action Bronson

Time for some action 

Yeah, but you don't hear me though 

Come on, here we go 

We put it down everywhere we go 

So motherfucker come on cause its 

Here's a toast to the fact 

That I'm a man and I can stand alone 

And all my suits are made by hand in Rome 

Ricotta stuff that Cannellon' 

I'm in the garden smoking roses 

Don't live like Malone, I'm talkin' Moses 

Part the ocean, spark the potion 

Diamonds in the rough, we shine 'em up 

Make a necklace, dive up in the muff 

Then wash my dick, straight to breakfast 

Hop up in the truck 

Got more flavor than some Dr. Pepper 

Hottest stepping struts 

And the streets paved with concrete 

I'm known to smoke the same shit that makes the lawn green 

Gaze at the moon right off the shore, dream 

But me no worry got a strong team 

Just like my Knick's '94 team, we winnin' though 

Go 80 layers on the Baklava, that's hand made by my nana 

Peace to Antigona 

The whole Shkup, Bill Clinton Boulevard 

Since a youth Bronsolini known to put it on 

Already mentioned with the people I respect up in the rap shit 

Couple of months you probably see me with an actress 

Getting my ass licked, while she driving never crashed it 

Smoking on that shit fantastic 

A little breezy off the coast as the sun sets 

Gallop on beach on the horse cause we young vets 

Limited edition, signature inscription 

Certificate of authenticity, I'm on a mission 

Queens representative, dismember your genitals 

Now you got a pussy, fucking with the general 

Bas Rutten, I'm ass bootin', I'm past shootin' 

Display fast movements, know that cash rules 

Drug clothes and I ain't talking 'bout a bento box 

Penetrate your mind, spice it with the mental lox 

Fundamental Soundgarden verbal Black Hole Sun 

At the flicks getting sucked in the back row 

Lungs filled, smokey like the pork shoulder 

Lash out, one second in the fourth quarter 

Triple penetrate, pussy meat I renovate 

Fuck 'em like a dog and leave 'em twisted like my mental state 

Off the deep end, snorkel in a river 

I take it back to Walkman's and tape decks 

In great neck, having great sex 

I didn't even have a hair on my face yet 

My feet were always classic though 

Pinky up, classy flow 

If you know me, you know never to pass me blow 

Straight shitting on these songs so the grass can grow 

'Til we sitting in the garden, smoking 

Listening to Marvin go 

I treat the shit just like a title fight, you sparring 

Soon a damn Ferrari, sex and models straight from Holland 

Lamb encrusted fennel pollen 

When I rhyme it's like the metal hollow 

These other motherfuckers smell the flowers 

Sissy