Mongolia Songtext
von Action Bronson

Well, he knows my name
But my name is not my name
And you?
To them, you′re only The Greek
And of course, I'm not even Greek

Yeah, back the five
Yeah, Hologram
Yeah, that′s coming up

Yo, it's Mr. 40-40, dressed like I'm Treach from Naughty
A young brother that′ll stretch your shorty (damn)
David Caruso couldn′t connect the story (what's up)
To solve the puzzle
His favorite murder weapon was a shovel

It the jefe, Spanish women all over my body
Like I′m Machete, homes
All I do is write these essay poems
Let's get dusted at the Mets game, homes


Like 16 handles, catch me swirlin′ in the left lane, home (whoo)
I don't even got my left leg on (damn)
Tryna dance tonight (damn)
This ain′t your language that I seen
Wrapped up my hands in ice
Me and my brother go together
Just like lamb and rice (fuck me)

I eat African 'shrooms, while rappin' on tombs
Back in June, when I clapped at your goon (ah)
My car color blew off, well, it′s new, and it′s too awful
The limo driver moved off
Or we'll off your new golf shoes (damn)

Working on my birdie putt, you heard me, slut
Hurry up, curvy butt
I need a bitch to go down on me (down)
I mean really go to town on me (town)
I mean really do a number on me (suck that dick, bitch)

Supplyin′ a league, a few fiends died at my feet (whoo)
Got dealt a bad hand off a half gram
Feast to famine, give you a half Xan
And throw you in the Grand Canyon (you fuckin' dead)


Yeah, uh
Uh
Mayhem doin′ good, that's a rumor that I heard
Wearin′ diamonds, eatin' bluefin tuna
They wanna test me like I'm Bradley Beal
None of you motherfuckers real
My nigga, pass the steel
Mass appeal, mass production
Mass destruction, crime, corruption
Wine consumption

On a private island wildin′
The sun threw shade ′cause it's jealous of my medallion
Bitchin′ and then compellin'
Late nights like Jimmy Fallon
Louis silk cuff with Nikes, picture me stylin′
My life story is an open shirt outfit
We gettin money, kid, you niggas ain't ′bout shit