Club Soda

[Verse 1: Juice] The high, exalted professional like DJ Clue? I might get lost like every night Hell, my life like, a vivid picture, a porno movie Smoking Buddha with shooters, maneuvering the steez Sharp like a Ginsu, I bleed for your sins I'm G-double-O-D Believe what I feel, feel what I see Do what I want, why you trying to do what I do? Stay in your lane, young man I do my thing, young man [Verse 2: Erick Arc Elliott] Although I never made a reason to lie, I kiss the sky Her imagination bleed into mine, we intertwined Divine to a T, cop you want from me? The cops cop from the bums, the bums cop from me True say, young virgin eyes are from demise Where the pun is bite the curb and die, I improvise Not to televise reality, your dreams are falsified Now you pivot on your wish to be wise as third eye Long shot, one try, let fly [Verse 3: Juice] Body like Michelle Tucker Fuck her like I love her It's simple as we break it down on instrumentals Straight killer ninja, bounty on your head Wrap you in your sheets, defecate, suffocate, and bleed As you plead, give me all the ganja, the money Being broke, ain't a damn thing funny No taxes, dirty money circle like the axis Wax this dab shit Young, high, and black, bitch! [Verse 4: Erick Arc Elliott] Whoever said tricks are for kids don't know this bitch Real nigga, vintage apparel, and fake friends Real niggas make it apparent and make ends So I architect the future, embarrass the fake brands Say, word, man, them niggas, they nervous too We on the cusp or something, .38 is starting to brew Making these movements, plus you do the interlude But I won't produce unless you nude, miss Otherwise you useless, yes, you useless So light a new spliff [Verse 5: Meech] Pop up at your funeral shirtless and spit on your hearse, bitch The worst is, nigga, you worthless Better off dead, so you laying in dirt deaves I'm better off dead cause there's zombies emerging Soon the ideology will be full surface And I won't have to go back to snatching purses and yapping Urkels Semi-automatic, leave the funeral service Mother with running mascara clutching the hearses Dark nigga but I never bow to the serpent What is your purpose? Hopefully on the crossroads you learn it That's if you earn it, that's for certain Money on my mind, marijuana my taste buds Young, black, and deprived so the world I shake up Who's your maker, look me in my eyes, nigga Meet your maker, Meech your maker [Verse 6: Action Bronson] It's me From the top floor view, I can see it all From this top floor view, I can see it all Dog, my bitch look like Nia Long Dog, my bitch look like Nia Long They say it's lonely where I'm at Shit, I'm quite cozy in the Jag They say it's lonely where I'm at Shit, quite cozy I'm sitting at the outdoor desk with my pants off FaceTiming my little mama back in France Speaking broken English, my golden features is the reason Why they stroke my penis when I sing songs, it's like a stroke of genius I'm Eric Clapton in a black Benz, stack ends You can tell my eyes are blue through the mac lens Lord, cleanse me, for dead soldiers pour Henny Uh, pour it The peppered steak was salty, but I ate it cause I love her She put sugar in her vegetables, she grew up in the gutter Tater tots with every meal, her body like a goddess Fingers, toes are polished, Super Sport Impalas Red flowers, that's to signify a new start Cause without you, I've been living with a blue heart Mixed emotions from the purple got me cloudy Got me wiling, got me speeding in the Audi, in Maui Queens shit Peace to my motherfucking brothers Flatbush, yeah You know we too high to die