Bounce lyrics

[Intro: Meechy Darko]
Woah, woah
Woah, woah, uh
Woah, woah, uh

[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 your life
Bape if she hip, Saint Laurent if she bougie
I'm faded like Boosie
She call Meechy over, I slide in that coochie
Nosedive in that coochie
My di*k is big, it should be wearin' a Coogi
I'm in Nice of France
Tie-dyed my lifestyle, even bleached the pants
Next week, Japan
Thom Browne bubble lens, eyes need the tint
Flatbush, Brooklyn, from the County of Kings, uh
Run up on me like I'm some hippie n*gga
And die under the knife, Joan Rivers
Ooh, damn, that punchline delivers
Hold up, wait a minute, moment of silence
Hm, f*ck it, let's get back to wylin'
Blood on your Timbs, shoot you
Blood at your limbs, tuh-tuh
Slugs hit 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
The capital M with two gats in my hand
[Verse 2: Zombie Juice]
Everyday a n*gga wake up, got to blaze a little chronic
Thank the universe, a blessin', new day, a new dollar
Middle finger to my n*ggas and my b*tches two times
Representin' for my n*ggas in the hood, it's no ceilin'
Sellin', trappin' like a villain, cold
Should've made a killin', go
Finger played with it, yo
n*gga stay with it
Hate a n*gga, fade him quicker now
Numb, dum-diddy-dum, I-I-I-I
High like the sun
Fetch a frequency, this ain't sh*t to me
She said she got a friend, then let my n*gga beat
Meech roll 'em, bust 'em, cannons, wooh
Spliff long, lookin' like a Manson
I'm on acid, feelin' like the Hamptons
She feelin' freaky, beat the pus*y like a champion
Young n*gga, but I'm still OG
Supreme Team like 1993
Triple six 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 Kool-Ade, make your decision
You want it, I get you
These n*ggas ain't right, they can't write they own sh*t
But they smile in your face, and they claim they the sh*t
But to me a disgrace
Trying to keep steps ahead like we runnin' a race
Got an ounce to burn, got a trip to make
Free my n*ggas, Lord, made it right today
Got an ounce to burn, got a trip to make
[Verse 3: Erick the Architect]
Not a thug, but n*ggas know how I keep mine
Call her up or quick to throw up the peace sign
Throw that pus*y, let me hit it
Girl, I got to get it
Sayin' she got a feelin', she let a young n*gga hit it
Back and forth 'cause we smoke them seven grams
Real boss sh*t, I don't expect you to understand
My performance, dreams at fourteen
Now I hear them callin' two to their seats
Won't slip away, this is serious business
'Voidin the mischief while spendin' these Benjamins
Surrender potential pus*y to me
Brought to you by the ungrateful police
Conscious keep tellin' me, beautiful melody
Will exhibit if I trip on the LSD
Nah, window for money and dro
Some people think I spend money for show
Spendin' 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 don't need supportin'
My b*tch 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
Addressed the b*tch n*ggas in a song, called it Palm Trees
Not a fan of you if you ain't ever hug my moms, B
Not a fan of n*ggas that be talkin' where I'm gon' be
Talk a lot of mess, leave you n*ggas out of pocket
Don't talkin' to me 'less you talkin' bout a profit
[Outro: Zombie Juice & Meechy Darko]
Universe a blessin', a new day a new dollar
Tag on your soul, everybody got a price
Acid, acid, change your life

[Produced by Erick Arc Elliott]