Driving Gloves

[Intro: Action Bronson] Leather driving glove rap Straight up Totes, toke that [Verse 1: Action Bronson] Fuck sales, on the road to getting rich off of touring And that's one thing for sure, like a shit in the morning Shit, never a cold toilet (never) I need a bitch with a pussy like a little league glove I’m the epitome of, all fly shit jacket to the shoe sole Two shooters, Flanagan, Caruso (Irish) Fly girl stuffed the drug in her caboose-o 'I see Bronson in the chartreuse coupe mo' My eyes sparkle like a diva's mirror Make dykes reconsider how they fishing in the river Leave your sister, sit n shiver Bagels catered, lox, no socks, blue drop Spanish bitches on the boardwalk, tube top Old school shit, nuttin' in a tube sock Safe to say you ain’t much without your crew, hop My time is now like a new watch, it’s me [Verse 2: The Alchemist] Lumberjack rumble in the jungle Live from the bungalow where I package a rap bundle Straight funnel, sugar cakes, I’mma bumble Bee that’ll sting you and flee without a rumble Hand sanitary, shooters on the team, Danny Ferry Fettuccine bars, pot belly Double-G Bronsonelli on the radio and the telly I chop like the Habibi at the deli Slice precision, your wife’s a pigeon I’m a chicken-hawk, hungry for a victim Wires trip 'em, blow the woofers out the system Non-exist 'em, take away the shine and eclipse 'em I’m ‘bout to do a song with Bono Pockets Trump like I just struck the lottery, lotto Just me and you, mano a mano Joints buckle, knees wobble Pussy, you sweet like Peach cobble [Verse 3: Oh No] Uh, look, hey I’m as far as the stars have told I’m trying to clock a few mill before a nigga gets old Heart is cold, froze from the ice and a whole arctic pole Bang my old art out of a Bose, I suppose Doing speeds like I’m in a Maserati But I’m really in a Mazda getting high with a hottie Probably too high to drive, Fear n Loathing in the body All I see is lights flashing like I’m at a Vegas party Benicio, circle around my eyes Feel like I ain’t slept, for about twenty nights You look like you just fell down forty flights I keep a shorty right cause Oh ain’t nothing nice! I got a bitch to put the heel to the pedals metal With shit hotter than the devil's kettle Never settle, get the gloves for the handle Shit, I put the fire to 'em, watch 'em melt like a candle It’s on!