Beautiful Music

That beautiful music

It's that pretty shit

I'm not your normal kind of rap singer

In the building where the subtle scent of crack linger

Fiends smoking off the foil, I only smoke shit from out the soil

Virgin oil, the name Bronson, no Arroyo

Barbecues get thrown with EBT cards

Land and sea, the air, three stars

Till gold plates get made right on arrival

The Amarone got me spinning like a gyro

Take the high road, poppy seeds from Cairo

Aaron Rodgers style, I'm here to take the title

Rock a Maz dog 'cause every word is viral

To leave you like a wet noodle, paralyze your spinal

Smoke this motherfucking weed real quick, hold on

I'ma get back to you in a minute

(Darling, let me lay be)

(Darling, let me lay be)

(Darling, let me lay beside you)

(Kiss my burning lips about you)

Dennis Byrd shit, china doll, leave your fur split, dig your pockets

Then she'll kill your earth, even if she's seven days away from giving birth

Ruthless, she'll catch you for your leather and your purse

Lamb-roasting over wood fire, extend the olive branch

Since the 90's I been rocking hundred dollar pants

Fifty dollar drugs linger in my sock

Put the lighter to the plastic, that's the sealant for the top

'Cause we coming from the Heights, you know I copped the puto

Tried to put it in the pussy, slid it in the culo

Damn, that's the wrong route

Now I gotta knee her in the stomach so it falls out

Take a deep breath, ancient knowledge like the crocs up in the Nile

Alabaster tiles in the kitchen 'cause I'm wyling

Tryna cop a chain that say you styling

Only chain of interest in the water made of Valens, yeah

(Darling, let me lay be)

(Darling, let me lay be)

(Darling, let me lay beside you)

(Kiss my burning lips about you)

Wild world that we're living in

I smoke drug, got the subtle hint of cinnamon

My twisted from the Absinthe

You can thank Flushing for my accent

So much more than rapping, you fucking with the captain

Action Jeter, salmon on the seater

You ain't do the job, then they calling the reliever

Me, Dennis Eckersley, rhymes flavor like my grandma book of recipes

About equity

Large stocks, a pal Glock, bomb box

Long beards, knee draped in sports drop

Loafer pressing on the petal

Extra heavy doggie 'cause my leg is made of metal

Often tangle with the devil, shapeshifter, shaking with strange hands

Bronsolini fresher than Maine clams

Making money everyday, it been the motherfucking gameplan

Remain tan during the winter laid in beige sand