Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Intercontinental Champion’ 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.
Yo, pop, sniff confetti for the toast
Dropkicks like Janetty off the ropes
Mach 6 smoking heavy on the coast
See me dip the law like vanilla in a cone
Use caution cause if not, then you a goner
Only talk business where we sitting in a sauna
Ain’t trying to be in prison, taking shits up in the corner
Rikers Island know the water so it’s all water
Shoes native, rock a husky as a headdress
Mind’s sick so we need to be on bedrest
You’re favourite niece give me head sex
She’s a squirter, so the bed’s wet
You’re gonna have to lay the towel down
Retard shit, class in the basement
Free form jazz band, eat a pussy
While she do a handstand, out in Flushing call me Bam-Bam
Smoke good, stay chopped, Van Damme hand
Damn, the bitch like Mrs. Schroeder
Vinegar by the bed, that’s for the vicious odor
Vicodin from Minnesota, make her kiss the cobra
Bottle service, snap my fingers, tell them bring it over
“Oh but I don’t even drink”
Then shorty sipped the liquor, then I’ll f*ck her on the sink
Red mink to the ankle mat lotioned
Arch your back, slow motion
Hold a green toast out in Oakland, shooting juice in my upper cheek
Shorty dripping like a tunnel leak
You know your whole team pussy like a muffin sheet
Stay balanced like a runner’s feet, it’s me