[Produced by Wes P with guitars by Drew Mantia]

[Verse 1: Action Bronson]
Bam Bam, yo
Sabathia money
Twist it in a bath with your honey
Don't have to ask her she do everything for me
Shine up the balls, keep 'em looking pristine
Take a chisel to the word scope a dime for a fiend
Her dream, intoxication, beaver warmer than the socks of Satan
Pasta waitin' on the table with the lobster bacon
Herb butter that was crab that made the word clutter
Maravilloso, toast it to the new summer
Rock a shirt with Secretariat on it
Seabiscuit on the dress, stay guarded like the eagle's nest
Lethal stress hand-crafted by the saucier
Carpaccio with that meat, right under horse's mane
Man of the land, there's many fish in the sea
My man D ? the V I tried to christen with tree
But still, there's nothing better than smokin' weed in a Cadillac
Closest runner-up is probably hearin' Daddy rap

[Verse 2: ProbCause]
Probable pick up the pieces, perfect pair with what you eatin'
Cleanin' that plate that we serve you
Wait 'til dessert you'll be cheesin'
Na, it ain't seasonal, prices are reasonable
They regional, Chi-town to N-Y is feedin' you
Breeding crew with the best cuts and I really wanna make that next cut
Made somethin' out of nothin' what's next up?
Let me cool that down for a sec, yup
Chillin' on that window-sill, patience for that slow-burn
Over-cooked and over-looked they chokin' on they own words
Cravin' my flavor, savor the taste to marinatin'
For ten days, Action Bronson got the lobster bakin'
How 'bout a feast, table with an extra seat
Always feed a hungry homie, happy to share the recipe, word up
I'm thinkin' about it a little longer these days
Takin' it in and I'm makin' it trend to melt the problems away
Still with my crew, thick, pass the bread
Spread the love, ash a cig
Pour the drink, lick this shit, do that shit all over again
[Verse 3: Chance the Rapper]
French Inhaling blow
An inch away from almost being unintentional
Attention all kids in the hall
You need extensive detentions and intervention
A two-week suspension and a bunch of whippins with extension cords
Chanoooo, trips to continents constant
Mix consonants and vowels and mispronounce it
Throw pronouns so profound I sound pompous
Sounds like hit records, shouts out Stef' Ponce
So protect your neck or it's all chances
Whatcha gon' do when them gold medals get to bronzin'
Double en-namedrop, threesome-themed dancers
Couple named Sandra, three of 'em flame ganja
Concerts complete carnage, what can't he conjure?
Chance'll make a zan, but you need bands ask Contra
Feel good Paris, my France smokin' on bonjour
Oops I mean hey, oops upside your noggin'
Who's outside your window? Chano smokin' a menthol
Painted caddie, a rental, ice-pick pad and a pencil
Master Roshi my master rollin' off of a Sensu
Since you were just a bastard they said the holy had sent you

[Outro: Action Bronson]
But still there's nothing better than smoking weed in a Cadillac
But still there's nothing better than smoking weed in a Cadillac
Closest runner-up is probably hearin' Daddy rap