Flatbush ZOMBiES – Club Soda lyrics

[Verse 1: Zombie 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: Zombie 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, creatin' 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: Meechy Darko]
Pop up at your funeral shirtless and spit on your hearse, bitch
The worst is, nigga, you worthless
Better off dead, so you lay in a dirt ditch
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