Fresh from a trip down to Miami, breakout MC Action Bronson is quick with t… Read Full Bio ↴Fresh from a trip down to Miami, breakout MC Action Bronson is quick with the cuisine jokes: despite sampling a few burgers and wines at the Food Network's South Beach Wine and Food Festival, the classically trained former chef maintains his signature version would've trumped all. "The Bronson Burger could've easily won any category at that place," he proclaims, casually asserting his culinary confidence.
Combining gut-busting humor, complex lyrical food references, and a vast understanding of street culture, Action Bronson carved out his own lane last year with undeniable mic skills and gregariously offbeat charisma. After self-releasing acclaimed debut "Dr. Lecter" and a well-received collaborative album with producer Statik Selectah ("Well-Done," on DCide), Bronson's latest effort, "Blue Chips," finds the Queens native teaming with Fool's Good Records producer Party Supplies and sneaker brand Reebok for an off-the-cuff free mixtape.
Much like Bronson's endless punch lines, "Blue Chips," out today (March 12) on Complex.com, took shape in an easygoing studio atmosphere. "The original thing I wanted to call it was '5 Minute Beats and 1 Take Raps' [because] that's pretty much all it really was," Bronson reveals. "It was all on the fly shit," agrees Party Supplies. "It wasn't thought out."
Most of "Blue Chips" was made in Party Supplies' home studio in Brooklyn over YouTube sample digging, grub from local chicken joint Pies 'n' Thighs, and obligatory smoke sessions.
Action Bronson + Party Supplies, "Blue Chips"
"I jumped on YouTube, found some weird obscure sample -- basically started looping it on the drum machine and [Bronson] wrote some shit," Party Supplies says of the recording. "It's digging in the crates," Bronson adds. " is digging nonetheless. It's still hard to find [the gems]."
The spontaneous environment spurred some choice moments of carefree collaboration. "Party Supplies helped me out on a rhyme, on the song 'Blue Chips,'" laughs Bronson. "He actually was saying things to me and I was turning them into rap."
That open-minded attitude attracted Reebok, leading it to fund the project and sponsor the release. "They're very progressive. They're both two different people, both very creative," says Reebok head of entertainment for global Matt Pantoja, a hip-hop fan and friend of managers Dante Ross (Bronson) and Peter Oasis (Party Supplies). "Everybody's talking about bringing New York back and all these things, and I felt like this was something that was going to create that kind of energy and get people psyched on the project."
For both artists, the Reebok deal was a chance to pair with one of their favorite brands. "Reebok introduced the idea to us, we were into it, and we love Reebok. [They're] such a classic company," Party Supplies says. "I grew up wearing them shits," affirms Bronson. "I wear the Kamakazi and I still have a lot of old school Reeboks today: the Pumps, the Michael Chang's, the Shaq's."
Combining gut-busting humor, complex lyrical food references, and a vast understanding of street culture, Action Bronson carved out his own lane last year with undeniable mic skills and gregariously offbeat charisma. After self-releasing acclaimed debut "Dr. Lecter" and a well-received collaborative album with producer Statik Selectah ("Well-Done," on DCide), Bronson's latest effort, "Blue Chips," finds the Queens native teaming with Fool's Good Records producer Party Supplies and sneaker brand Reebok for an off-the-cuff free mixtape.
Much like Bronson's endless punch lines, "Blue Chips," out today (March 12) on Complex.com, took shape in an easygoing studio atmosphere. "The original thing I wanted to call it was '5 Minute Beats and 1 Take Raps' [because] that's pretty much all it really was," Bronson reveals. "It was all on the fly shit," agrees Party Supplies. "It wasn't thought out."
Most of "Blue Chips" was made in Party Supplies' home studio in Brooklyn over YouTube sample digging, grub from local chicken joint Pies 'n' Thighs, and obligatory smoke sessions.
Action Bronson + Party Supplies, "Blue Chips"
"I jumped on YouTube, found some weird obscure sample -- basically started looping it on the drum machine and [Bronson] wrote some shit," Party Supplies says of the recording. "It's digging in the crates," Bronson adds. " is digging nonetheless. It's still hard to find [the gems]."
The spontaneous environment spurred some choice moments of carefree collaboration. "Party Supplies helped me out on a rhyme, on the song 'Blue Chips,'" laughs Bronson. "He actually was saying things to me and I was turning them into rap."
That open-minded attitude attracted Reebok, leading it to fund the project and sponsor the release. "They're very progressive. They're both two different people, both very creative," says Reebok head of entertainment for global Matt Pantoja, a hip-hop fan and friend of managers Dante Ross (Bronson) and Peter Oasis (Party Supplies). "Everybody's talking about bringing New York back and all these things, and I felt like this was something that was going to create that kind of energy and get people psyched on the project."
For both artists, the Reebok deal was a chance to pair with one of their favorite brands. "Reebok introduced the idea to us, we were into it, and we love Reebok. [They're] such a classic company," Party Supplies says. "I grew up wearing them shits," affirms Bronson. "I wear the Kamakazi and I still have a lot of old school Reeboks today: the Pumps, the Michael Chang's, the Shaq's."
Jackson & Travolta
Action Bronson & Party Supplies Lyrics
Where all the good songs have gone wCBS FM
Rocking all green outfit's
The butter look like Sun Chips
Suck my son's dick
We in the street like a bum's shit
Bury me on Kissena I'm riding low
Like a centipede in the Beamer
Million dollar belt, precious facial features
Acid in the fucking headband, get the bedpan
I'm shitting on myself
And you're the one who gotta clean it
While I lay there
Just to get some Ray-Bans? Shit
800 dollars just for play pants
Don't try to touch me with those AIDs hands
Raise my performance fee to 80 grand
Hipster bitches, they pussy smell like seitan
I'm glad I ate lamb
Smoke something
Got me fucking…got me hot in here, man
Fuck, bitch, ah shit, yo
The kid caught herpes from the Rabbi
Yacob from 165, with the bad eye
Drug deal transportation was a cab ride
Displayed on the mantle was a brass lion
Mass from Ireland
Give you a casket to lie up in
While an Asian man play the violin
He was taught from age 2, never miss a note
Brought his sister in the bathroom
To shit the coke out
I cop the Audi with the poke out
700 thousand dollars at the smokehouse
Drugs in my lungs…ah, fuck
Fast money 'til we die, peep the resume
Hang-glide into the boat
Get my cheddar notes
Keep the shotty in the leather coat
Motherfucker, better know
Fast money 'til we die, peep the resume
Hang-glide into the boat
Get my cheddar notes
Keep the shotty in the leather coat
Motherfucker, better know
Many nights I shot dice in the drug den
My raps permeate from a thug's pen
And love when
I think about my purpose in life
Keep soft mouths slurping precise
These bitches love us
We named Pit Bulls after hard liquor
(Hennessy) turn the knife in the wound
Make it scar thicker
Shit, we still wear jean shorts
Veteran, playing these mean sports
What up Dab?
This ain't boom bap, homie it's doom rap
And your career shit couldn't compare with
Bronsoline and Laurenivici
Write fly rhymes and sky dive from Mount Fiji
That's word to my parachute
Old money still flows, last chapter loot
Firearms and novelty beverages
Keep drama riddled with hemorrhages
We good though
Rocking all green outfit's
The butter look like Sun Chips
Suck my son's dick
We in the street like a bum's shit
Bury me on Kissena I'm riding low
Like a centipede in the Beamer
Million dollar belt, precious facial features
Acid in the fucking headband, get the bedpan
And you're the one who gotta clean it
While I lay there
Just to get some Ray-Bans? Shit
800 dollars just for play pants
Don't try to touch me with those AIDs hands
Raise my performance fee to 80 grand
Hipster bitches, they pussy smell like seitan
I'm glad I ate lamb
Smoke something
Got me fucking…got me hot in here, man
Fuck, bitch, ah shit, yo
The kid caught herpes from the Rabbi
Yacob from 165, with the bad eye
Drug deal transportation was a cab ride
Displayed on the mantle was a brass lion
Mass from Ireland
Give you a casket to lie up in
While an Asian man play the violin
He was taught from age 2, never miss a note
Brought his sister in the bathroom
To shit the coke out
I cop the Audi with the poke out
700 thousand dollars at the smokehouse
Drugs in my lungs…ah, fuck
Fast money 'til we die, peep the resume
Hang-glide into the boat
Get my cheddar notes
Keep the shotty in the leather coat
Motherfucker, better know
Fast money 'til we die, peep the resume
Hang-glide into the boat
Get my cheddar notes
Keep the shotty in the leather coat
Motherfucker, better know
Many nights I shot dice in the drug den
My raps permeate from a thug's pen
And love when
I think about my purpose in life
Keep soft mouths slurping precise
These bitches love us
We named Pit Bulls after hard liquor
(Hennessy) turn the knife in the wound
Make it scar thicker
Shit, we still wear jean shorts
Veteran, playing these mean sports
What up Dab?
This ain't boom bap, homie it's doom rap
And your career shit couldn't compare with
Bronsoline and Laurenivici
Write fly rhymes and sky dive from Mount Fiji
That's word to my parachute
Old money still flows, last chapter loot
Firearms and novelty beverages
Keep drama riddled with hemorrhages
We good though
Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Bruce Bruh
WE IN THE STREETS LIKE A BUMS SHIT fire
Matthew Sierra
Just saw action Bronson and mayhem perform this live with alchemist dj'ing it!!! LEGENDARY
Barlos
@Matthew Sierra imagine now
Cream Corn
Jealous man. People talk about jcole. I'm talking about Bronsolean and lorenavichi
Matthew Sierra
Matthew Sierra damn... can’t believe it’s already been two years. Time flies lol
Chris Haugan
ahh okay
M H
yes but alchemist is the tour DJ for his live performances
Shane Prior
Out in the street like a bum shit. Damn tho big homie brons, got me quoting that shit pat.
Atom Ariola
the last outpost of the real. jedi mind tricks, snowgoons; good. action is the the last, deepest, realest; you can feel his hardest tracks in your liver.
Jackson
CLASSIC!!!!!