Traction - BOLDY JAMES, Action Bronson

We rollin' back to back

Different color Cadillacin'

Pray the Lord, they don’t put me in the paddy wagon

If they do it be a long trip

Boss shit, Boldy hold the four fifth

Pull it, leave his body where the Pistons play

Rock a mask like Richard Hamilton

And hit the J

But in Queens they call me Mookie

Boobie put the tookie where she poopy

If you see me then salute me, bitch!

Cuzzy quick to burn up the turnpike

And skrrt on them dirtbikes

A lot of outta towners got murdered the first night

For try’na serve on the work site

Ten bricks and a bitch

Came jumped on the first bike

I’m talkin' perched white

Third base/3rd Bass, searchlight/Serchlite

Got caught with another gun on my third strike

I’m from Detroit so I call cot and run dice

And I was crowned King Concreature from birth right

Blocks

We take em over with little resistance

Vivid descriptions of urban living conditions

Fiend balet, back block recitals

Park the phantom on the block

Ghetto American Idol

On a whim and a prayer

I swear on a stack of bibles

For this shit right here

My dear handed me the title

To the Rivier, lit the glass pipe with the lighter

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop

I’m suited up in black attire, bitch

Time for some

Time for some action

Pre-cocked, one in the hole

Blastin'

Them nines, double action

It’s time for some action

Street life, lights camera action

Grind till you shine

On your brights from your hazards

Flash 'em, lights camera action

Time for some

Time for some action

We got it all under control, traction

Fuck around throw some fox on my bitch

But still cop a sandwich from my ahks up the block

No socks, in some concept Balances

Split pea soup coupe dipped, no challengers

This is grown man rap, you in the kiddie pool

You still pissin' in that little urinal

We burn the tree with a tinge of purple

Flip work like a ninja turtle

You ain’t fuckin' wit' my inner circle

Dreams of five girls laid up on the white bed

My off white dick stretched across some dyke’s head

5'8″, the city on my back

I’m jumpin' out the gym

And dunkin' it on Shaq

Plug with the connect

I hit him up on consignment

If you spineless then squirm with the rest

You can run and play hide and seek

Until I pop up with that ninety

Now that’s what I call the return of the mac