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flatbush zombies – bounce lyrics

[intro: meechy darko]
woah woah
woah woah huh
woah woah huh

[verse 1: meechy darko]
ysl pants with the zippers—yikes!
met her this evenin’, ‘ready hit it, twice
tag on your soul everybody got a price
acid, acid, change yo’ life
bape if she hip, 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 d-ck is big, it should be wearin’ a coogi
i’m in nice of france
tie-dyed my lifestyle
even bleached the pants
next week j-pan
thom browne bubble lens, eyes need the tint
flatbush, brooklyn, from the county of kings
run up on me like i’m some hippie n-gga
and die under the knife, joan rivers
ooh, d-mn, 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 shoot
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
d-mn 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 n-gga wake up, got to blaze a little chronic
thank the universe, a blessing, new day, a new dollar
middle finger to my n-ggas and my b-tches two times
representing for my n-ggas in the hood it’s no ceiling
sellin’, trappin’ like a villain, cold
should’ve made a k!lling, 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, 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 looking like a manson
i’m on acid feeling like the hamptons
she feeling freaky beat the p-ssy like a champion
young n-gga 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 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 running a race
got an ounce to burn, got a trip to make
free my n-ggas lawd, made it right today
got an ounce to burn, got a trip to make

[verse 3: erick arc elliott]
not a thug but n-ggas know how i keep mine
call her up or quick to throw up the peace sign
throw that p-ssy, let me hit it
girl, i got to get it
saying she got a feeling, 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 14
now i hear them calling two to their seats
won’t slip away this is serious business
voidin the mischief while spending these benjamins
surrender potential p-ssy 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, window for money and dro
some people think i spend money for show
spending show money
flip like aerobics
components will k!ll 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 wh0r-s
money, keep countin’
she strip like lance mountains
my p-ssport is packed
how i travel, astoundin’ (yeah)
“thug waffle”—did that
now we comin’ back for the k!ller contract
pull up on your pampers
three man army
address the b-tch n-ggas 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 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 and meechy darko]
universe a blessing, a new day a new dollar
tag on your soul, everybody got a price
acid, acid change yo’ life

[produced by erick arc elliott]

- flatbush zombies lyrics

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