Bounce

[Verse 1: Meechy Darko] YSL pants with the zippers, yikes Met her this evenin' already hit it, twice Tag on your soul everybody got a price Acid, acid, change yo life Bape if she hipster, Saint Laurent if she bougie I'm faded like Boosie She call me Meechy over, I slide in that coochie Nosedive in that coochie My dick is big, it should be wearin' a Coogi Imma need some friends Tie dyed my lifestyle Even bleached the pants Next week Japan Thom Browne bubble lens, I need the tint Flatbush, Brooklyn, from the County of Kings, ah Run up on me like I'm some hippie, nigga And die under the knife, Joan Rivers Ooh, damn, that punchline delivers Hold up wait a minute, moment of silence Hm, Fuck it Let's get back to wylin' Blood on your Timbs, Shoot Shoot Blood at your limbs, tuh tuh Split at your rims Ambidextrous, I shoot with two hands Even got blood on your friends I think I just flooded the Benz Damn it, baby, Meechy's at it again M-M-Murder, murder, murder Capital M with two gats in my hand [Verse 2: Zombie Juice] Everyday a nigga wake up, got to blaze a little chronic Thank the universe, a blessing, new day, a new dollar Middle finger to my niggas and my bitches two times Representing for my niggas in the hood it's no ceiling Sellin', trappin' like a villain, cold Should've made a killing, go Finger played with it, yo Nigga stay with it Hate a nigga, fade him quicker now Dum diddy dum I, I, I, I, I high like the sun Fetch a frequency, this ain't shit to me She said she got a friend, then let my nigga beat Meech, Roll em, Bust em, cannons, wooh Spliff long looking like a Manson I'm on acid feeling like the Hamptons She feeling freaky beat the pussy like a champion Young nigga but I'm still O.G Supreme Team like 1993 Triple 6 on my coffin, I dance with the devil Came back with a vengeance, Christ off the hinges I'm nice with the spit kid, twice as much vicious Psycho-active, I'm on a mission Electric KoolAde, Make your decision You want it, I get you These niggas ain't right, they can't write they own shit But they smile in your face, and they claim they the shit But to me a disgrace Trying to keep steps ahead like we running a race Got an ounce to burn, got a trip to make Free my niggas lawd, made it right today Got an ounce to burn, got a trip to make [Verse 3: Erick Arc Elliott] Not a thug but niggas know how I keep mine Call her up or quick to throw up the peace sign Girl, that pussy let me hit it Girl, I got to get it Saying she got a feeling, she let a young nigga hit it Back and forth cause we smoke them seven grams Billboard shit I don’t expect you to understand My performance, dreams at 14 Now I hear them calling two to their seats Won’t slip away this is serious business Voided in mischief while spending these Benjamins Open the potential pussy to me Brought to you by the ungrateful police Conscious keep telling me, beautiful melody Will exhibit if I trip on the L.S.D Nah, we don't fund for money and dro Some people think I spend money, for sure Spending show money Flip like aerobics Components will kill my opponents I sit on my throne, it's enormous Composed with the chorus My karma is good, dog, and y'all need supportin' My bitch is so gorgeous, I cannot afford To spend time with her when chasin' these whores Money, keep countin' She strip like Lance Mountains My passport is packed How I travel, astoundin' (Yeah) Thug Waffle did that Now we comin' back for the killer contract Pull up on your pampers Three man army Address the bitch niggas in a song, call it Palm Trees Not a fan of you if you ain't ever hug my moms, b Not a fan of niggas that be talkin' where I'm gon' be Talk a lot of mess, leave you niggas out of pocket Don't talkin' to me less you talkin' bout a profit [Outro: Zombie Juice and Meechy Darko] Universe a blessing, a new day a new dollar Tag on your soul, everybody got a price Acid, acid changed your life