Hallelujah [Bonus Track] [*] – Song and Lyrics by Action Bronson

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Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Hallelujah [Bonus Track] [*]’ by Action Bronson. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of Action Bronson or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.

Ayo, hoes holler hallelujah, how I maneuver
Passenger’s side with Ruger, kinda sewer
My mind is a sewer, infested with garbage
Crime, rhyming and music, disrespecting the market
Like a Mexican martyr, boy, I do it to death
Nothing left with the carcass, squeeze a Tec on the target
Aim the wreck at your artist, flames, a mess on the carpet
Then hit everything except for the daughter
Cat burglar to a merciful murderer
Certainly not with the circus, they trying serve
I’m either too hood for my own good
Or I’m too good for my own hood
Cold is the climate in the hearse
Where they found me in the dirt, too demonic for the church
I body any and everybody until the day they put my body in the earth
This is ghetto gossip while I work

Live from Venice, the something menace
Put me in the Guinness for raising hell up for all the sinners
High as tinters, violinists, I string them all along
Tied to the flow like water skis in the red ocean
Hang like an apostrophe, any MC no Qu’ran
I prayed to the God, then prayed on their bodies all at once
Sun setting, never regretting the day’s events are gone
Forgive me for my sins, with everything that I ?
Sweaty, sick as spaghetti, my noodle machete sharp
To niggas that wanna spark, I pray for you, hallelujah
Quick as a cougar when I maneuver
You spit maneuver, eating Peruvian in my rishwa pen
Pretty Julia Robinson, I’m a woman robbing you
Of your coolness, part of the reach like the stewardess
Underground like the sewage is, who fucking with the kid?
Did this show evidence?
International, such an animal, yeah I really been
Killing on the daily, you niggas crazy and asterisk
Star, follow me you could probably find the main jar
I been major, it’s Rapsody, boy

I don’t trust the score, I’ve been baffled by judges’ cards before
Never leave it in their hands, that’s the art of war
I learned the proper punching power started from the floor
Ground up, renovate, a wall is just another door
Resurrected like the phoenix, blazing every stage
Spread my wings and fly, but gravity’s a heavy cage
Hellfire and heaven’s rage on every page
Revelation propaganda, maybe it’s the seven plagues
Aiming at the tower, same commercial, different station
They stuck on training wheels and tracing paper, vapor chasing
I’m half amazing, a quarter sinner, a quarter savior
Fascinated, Rakaa seen the wretched paint the righteous painting
My travel agent’s favorite, preacher’s son, no sign of fading
The lights weaponized, fireworks at night displaying
The blazing arrows fly, a thousand points of light just raining
Careful when you’re in the quarters, chariots are hydroplaning

Fucker, we from the hundreds now
Kill a f*ck assumption, we bucking off or we ducking down
Couple blocks away from the form, check how we run this town
You fuckers get this work in this bun, check my circumference now
Circle wasn’t set stretching, yoga flame
Hottest rapper in the streets and they don’t even know his name
Kept the dope, boy, and I ain’t even need a golden chain
I’m focused, man, you shooting like a rookie that don’t know his range
Smoking, watch me go insane, opus and the Novocaine
Shit was once an open game, we got it by a rope and chain
Losing all control of wild paintings in my broken brain
I don’t think you get it, scrap me down for anything you niggas sending at me
Young niggas flexing, mean mugs but trigger happy
I’m getting high, I don’t ever let a minute pass me
I’m feeling famished, bitch, I’m sick of fasting
About that action, we can get it cracking
Never find shit to match

I caught a body, they called it a verse
Called the cops, I caught the life, they calling a hearse
Pain is easy in reverse, I think pleasure hurts
The first rule is win, the second’s don’t forget the first
I think the worst now behind us
Hello first-timers, it’s welcome to one-liners
Question anything against the center of alignment
This rock ain’t a diamond until it’s polished up and shining
Decide to ride the retro minutes to the summit’s peak
Others fall trying to climb it because their stomach weak
When we climbing in the summer heat
They throwing shade against the team when the others meet
Despite the ?
After this drops, nothing’s best kept but nothing’s secret
If nothing’s nothing, then what the f*ck is getting even?
Just an odd man out, another duck in season
What’s yours is yours, what’s mines is mines
It seems as simple as it simply rhymes
I keep the simpleton spit in all the sympathy lines
I mean it’s Craig G rap came on symphony shines

Slay the Nazarene, you just fire water, I’m gasoline
It ain’t A day in Philly if I don’t pass a fiend
It’s blood everywhere, similar assassins seem
Purify the water, correlate the tour to a maccabee
You think that you could box a Vinnie?
Dummy, that’s obscene
The nine milli, silly, dummy, but the mac is mean
The downstairs wild pretty, but the attic clean
You have unbearable lightness and just a lack of being
You ain’t built to shoot the fire with me, that’s the thing
I’m only after one thing, money, that’s the rings
I’m only after one head, money, that’s the king’s
A rack on a bigger rack and so he have to sing
I got an Ingraham Mac Eleven and it has a beam
And that’s a beautiful love there, it has a gleam
You wasn’t in a platoon, cousin, cause that was Shane
Old school, still loaded the guns with Vaseline

Selling the J dirty boogie, gray hoodie, hit the dougie
Pinky rings on racks of chicken nuggets
Shit’s like shooting fish in a bucket, damn the hummus
I’m in Japan for the summer, land the plane
Or Jamaica, black rain in the forecast
Four-four class, open a stolen Accord door and haul ass
Body disposed by Albanian doorman for four grand, aw man
I throw the lamb in the ground and leave it overnight
You ain’t ever seen this in your life
You ain’t used to being where I been to, Curly and my men do
You ain’t been through shit I been through
This is limited edition, 666 driven
Tryin’a keep from out of prison
So I lay low, throwing dice, tomato sauce for the boss
Place the crib over the cross, it’s us