Nas – Suicide Bounce (ft. Busta Rhymes) (Audio, Lyrics)

Throwback to the Busta Rhymes-featured “Suicide Bounce” track by rapper, Nas. Listen, stream, buy, mp3 download and read the lyrics to the song produced by Nas.

Nas Suicide Bounce

The recent release of Nas’ King’s Disease album has once again reopened the floor for discussion surrounding his overall discography. And when talks of that nature kick-off, his seventh studio album Street’s Disciple tends to feel like the odd man out. Boasting no shortage of strong material, as per usual with double disc efforts, Street’s Disciple tends to fall victim to its own ambition. But while it has received a decent amount of retroactive acclaim, it remains difficult to place in the grand scheme of Nas’ overarching career.

One thing is certain, however — the project’s second disc begins on a truly excellent note, with Nas linking with Busta Rhymes for the ominous and downright intimidating “Suicide Bounce.” Over a haunting and up-tempo string-driven instrumental produced by Esco himself, Nas paints a vivid picture of the perils found within his environment and the forces moving to tip the scales. “Body viewings, at the wake, N**ga sit stiff in his Ferrari, no casket,” raps Nas. “With his eyelids still open, it’s kinda spooky / Iceman watch on, the suit Gucci.”

Nas – Suicide Bounce (ft. Busta Rhymes) (prod. Nas)

Lyrics

[Intro: Busta Rhymes]
Ay fellas
I-I think you might wanna s-s-s-sneak your ratchet in here for this one
Ay ladies
Put the petroleum jelly on your face
Ayo Nas, we got a big bet in the streets that you knock their ass out in the first 30 seconds of the first round
Get them!

[Verse One: Nas]
Sitting up drunk, shuffling thoughts
Got paper but I’m lost
Losing focus, what a nigga still hustling for?
My seed is straight, the family’s settled
Idle time get the man in trouble
When wifey tourin’, my life get borin’
Start to remember all types of torment
The devil’s callin’, but I don’t answer
Mom passed from cancer, leaving behind
Two granddaughters, two grandsons, two nines
Next to me in the Phantom, who lying?
Big screen documentaries of Idi Amin
Dada, trying to stay away from creeps
With their bullshit, trying to put me back in the streets
War stories, funerals
Where Feds be laying, from a dreadful slaying
Body viewings, at the wake
Nigga sit stiff in his Ferrari, no casket
With his eyelids still open, it’s kinda spooky
Iceman watch on, the suit Gucci
I’m above the standard
But dudes is more zealous than Branford
Thinking you’re too rich, they want to gun ya
Kidnap ya, cause of they hunger, but you fucking with hunters
Camouflaged in black hoods that dump clips
Cause real niggas die over dumb shit
Camouflaged in black hoods that dump clips
Cause real niggas die over dumb shit

[Hook (x2): Busta Rhymes]
Fight, fists, dance, sucker
Suicide, bounce, brother
Ice, whips, cash, nigga
Watch your, big, ass, momma

[Verse Two: Nas]
To your, power structure, Nas is dangerous
Y’all the antithesis, the opposite
Twitching shit, all up in your body language
Mean mugging your bitch, because she leans over
To look closer, told you: “Y’all sloppy gangsters”, saying:
“Nas is this, and Nas is that”
Your eyes go front, your eyes go back
Surprised I’m at the same place y’all be at
It’s obvious you don’t know how I react
Like, I don’t know where the party’s at
You’re foaming at the mouth, losing breath
Like a cardiac arrest, but I ain’t impressed
Because the fact is, y’all don’t really want it
Two to the head, four to the stomach
Call more security because, I come off
Anywhere you at, you scary cats
If you dare squeeze back, guns shall rain
A thousand times harder, than when I first came
Y’all not relentless, y’all dumb
And y’all just forgot about the consequences
Not a jail sentence, but see
The nigga you feed’ll kick it to dude, that kick it to me
We posess, the recipes for death, because jealousy destroys
Feed the dog first, watch out for Salmonella poisoning
I know a kid who’ll throw shit in your food
And say: “That’s the way you kill a man
Avoid the shooting”, hey {*echo* x4}

[Hook (x2): Busta Rhymes]
Fight, fists, dance, sucker
Suicide, bounce, brother
Ice, whips, cash, nigga
Watch your, big, ass, momma

[Outro: Quan, (Busta Rhymes)]
You smile, in my face
Secretly I know, you want my place
You waiting on me to choke, don’t want a nigga to breathe
Want to come cut my throat, you want to get rid of me
But before I let it happen, them guns going to start clapping
And y’all going to rest in peace, because death is the recipe
Before I let it happen them guns going to start clappin
And y’all going to rest in peace, because death is the recipe

(Suicide, bounce, brother) (x4)