Action Bronson – Latin Grammys (Audio, Lyrics, Video)

Action Bronson unveils “Latin Grammys”. Listen, watch the video, stream, buy, mp3 download, read the lyrics to the song produced by Tommy Mas.

Action Bronson Latin Grammys

Action Bronson’s uniquely cartoonish and often hilarious brand of lyricism has placed him alongside the game’s cleverest. Yet never does he sacrifice his signature grit, a quality enhanced by his ear for soulful and cinematic production. Today, Bronsolinio drops off his first single of the year with “Latin Grammys,” wasting little time in drawing a chuckle. “I may not be able to touch my toes but I will still fuck these hoes,” he declares, over a brassy sample. Later, he proclaims to “fly a plane better than Tom Cruise” and “drive cars like Dale Sr, with my feet up.”

Action Bronson – Latin Grammys (prod. Tommy Mas)

Watch Video

Lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Aah-ooh)

[Chorus]
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes

[Verse 1]
You take steps to get to the sex, I just flex (Aha)
Like Lex, dance moves with the pecs (Aha, pecs)
It be like, “Damn, that man smooth like a Corvette”
Vroom vroom through the set, who’s next to get suplexed?
Suplex City, bitch
Suplex City, bitch (Ha)
Suplex City, bitch (Ha)
Suplex City, bitch
You know the vibe, your boy been immortalized
Yellow M5 glide like water slide (Oh, so true)
Black trench like the ‘taker (You know me)
Black tint so they can’t make us (The fucking Undertaker)
I fly the plane better than Tom Cruise
Drive cars like Dale Sr. with my feet up
Lotus pose like Shiva on the floor
For the fight with my seat next to Jeter
I told that motherfucker roll the weed up, please

[Chorus]
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes

[Verse 2]
My new shit, Only for Dolphins
Then let the slammer off like Dolph Lundgren
You know the Bronco starts howling once the light dims
And he ain’t stoppin’ ’til the night ends
So go ahead with your pitty pat
My swimming trunks hold fifty racks
Don’t make me hit you with the Diddy dance
I carved a hundred skulls into the handle of the mini-Mac
Your boy keeps acid in his sack, daddy
Been hot since miggity, miggity, miggity mac daddy
And that’s a long time
And I could care less what them motherfuckers sayin’
And that’s no lie
Bitch, I’m living la vida loca
Yellow grove, figaro, choke me
Laughing in the mirror like the Joker with the Oakleys
My whole team out for dead presidents like Bokeem
It’s young baklava, you know me, yeah

[Chorus]
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes
Yeah, I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes
I might not be able to touch my toes
But I will still fuck these hoes

[Outro]
Yeah
Bam bam, baklavizzy
Flushing, Queens shit (Gimme dat, gimme dat, gimme dat)
Seventy, seventy