Video Double Impact de Action Bronson 2025 Cristiana Lyrics

Action Bronson - Double Impact Lyrics

Ayo, as we smoke in a Beamer, the angel eye lights in the lenses
The .44 caliber killer, rappers are defenseless
I'm hearing voices in my mind, they keep repeating
'87 style, get the money like I'm Michael Keaton
Bizarre rap, call me commandant [?], Jack
Origami a cigar into a small black

Ayo, what the fuck?
You see me in the street, I rock a short set, roll a quartet
I play the doorstep, Rambo inside the Gore-tex
Moon covered by the half a cloud, make a bastard wild
Chasing numbers more than [?]
[?] a bit loose allow the mind to circulate
I'll merk a Jake cause we were fathered by the Purple Tape
Burn a blank cause I'm Queens affiliated
Delegator for rough raps heavily celebrated
You see the mane on my face it spell struggle
Jail juggle, catch a case watch the bail double
Eleven drugs [?] Tallahassee [?]
Now we stunt kicks, lemon on the Lungfish
Artisan bread, half-moon parts in our head
Fila the shoe, deadly like a fart in a bed
Fila Velour, sour in a plastic bag
Classic swag, lay a coward in a casket bad

[?]
(Where you headed Bronson?)
Straight to the top nobody stoppin me
I spit that prophecy, that ancient Mayan pottery

[?]

Uh, rise out the bed slide the feet in a slipper
Shorty layin naked so I threw my D in her shitter
(Did she scream when you hit her, what kinda weed did you give her)
I mean that sour every hour, shake the cheese on the fritter
My Caesar low down, jacket to the knee, rock a suede shoe
Beige stew for them addicts stuck on stage 2
[?] off my dick and started shakin, breakin
Doing dance moves [?] Jamaicans

[?]

Ayo, stroke of genius shit dumping out the Nina clip
Lavender and Honeysuckle blowing out the Beamer whip
Heavy swervin, my brother on the lean and shit
Cruise around the city bag a chicken, semen drip-
Like a fiend's nose, marijuana steam prose
All these fly shits on our feet, haven't seen those
Crime lords with the five swords
Get covered up by [?] my platters crafted by Jean-Georges
(Where you headed Bronson?)
Straight to the top nobody stoppin me
I spit that prophecy, that ancient Mayan pottery
[?]