Hold on Bounce feat. Bun B and Paul Wall No Came Acceleration Gangster Verse 1 Bun B Hold on, can't stop, can't rewind the time Drunk off liquor, high of dollar bills and dimes Out here getting my paper nine to five Lil' tricks around the way they know what's up Talk too much, get fucked up I guess I'd die in the life of greed Muthafuckas 'round here die to bleed Grinding hard, till we cease Breakin bread, reading Matthew 26 On that Purple Haze like Jemi Hendrix I'm a G hell yea, oh boy Brotha burna zone, nigga We always keep it trill, in the hood we look like kings Hold on, down here we moving weights Go-getters, paper chase I keep my mind focused, make money, break bread Work hard like I ain’t rich I’m surviving, that’s the code of the streets Fancy cars and diamond ice, that’s how it be All about the cheddar, riding in cars with leather Middle finger to the haters, cause no one can do it better Bring me two turkeys back like it's Thanksgiving Don’t matter what time of the year, we stay pimpin That’s how Texan living Chorus Now hold on, hold on bounce Now hold on, hold on bounce Now hold on, hold on bounce Verse 2-Paul Wall Paul Wall, you know I stay clean It’s me and Bun B Dirty and No Came Southeast Maryland South, and hood is how you be America’s toughest bouncer, call me Mr. T. The car got hydrolics, no balance The Godfather of dripping cars Tell it like it is like Al Sharpton Getting money, ain’t no problem Get this paper like an NBA baller Fresh out of Houston Sippin Sizzup, sippin Louie Everyday, I’m on a mean attack Give me a brick of blow you never seen it flip as fast as that Listen to "Gangsta Grillz" is real, best chill Living Large, 3D real Clark Kent couldn’t invent this Superman feel When I ride my cadi, I'm strapped up at all times, flex me and I beat you down I’m a boss, the way I smooth operate Got a way with women, first day a date I'll have you feelin like you walkin on the moon, Cause truly I live in space, Superfly, like I’m living away Trunk pumpin listening to Ugk Look for real, not the fake Hustling on the grind, Riding foreign rides, baby Chorus Now hold on, hold on bounce Now hold on, hold on bounce Now hold on, hold on bounce Verse 3-No Came DC, Landover, Temple Getting money is simple Ballers and we write with a pencil Getting money, GM are initials Popping tags, swag too official I grind its off to work Hustle hard, make the jewelry store hurt Still give thanks to God, first man first Accumulating paper stacks than are as high as the Himalayas Look at Clif, he’s a playa Was broke, not millionaire People look at me, diamonds they stare Money is the Himalayan Range 15,000 glaciers of ice, man I’m paid Broad Peak, money I speak But dirty, na, now I ride But with a hard past, and a bible inside I was born blind but now i see that road to riches Hustle, cause I want 7 figga digits Want my sons to be paid like me Ballers, riding 23s It’s a rider’s world, in a cold town It’s feels good, rest in peace James Brown Chorus till 438