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flatbush zombies - headstone lyrics

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[intro: zombie juice]
victory, victory
gold on my neck, mr. t
victory, victory
zombie gang reppin’ that nyc
victory, victory
ice round my neck like i’m lil weeze
we run this sh-t like a pair of cleats
it’s h-ll on earth with this rap beat

[chorus: meechy darko]
money over b-tches on my headstone
here lies young n-gg- gettin’ paper
never take a loss on my headstone
only take a l when i’m smokin’ it
zombie gang three times on my headstone
been thuggin’, from the cradle to the grave
now your favorite rapper name on a headstone
too late, he already dead

[bridge: erick arc elliot]
imagine when you’re thirty thousand feet up what you think of?boy, i hated knowin’ that my thoughts would turn to dreams
’cause i never knew i’d get my chance to link up
boy, i tell you, all of this unusual to me
swear i came from the bottom, flatbush livin’, walkin’ dead on
but your favorite rapper’s name up on a headstone
biggie big for the cheese and you’re dead wrong
propaganda set the standards in the terror dome

[verse 1: zombie juice]
i hit it doggystyle, she throw it back
yeah, i’m born to mack
it’s dark and h-ll is hot so leave me where i’m at
i’m livin’ how i wanna, no reasonable doubt
it’s clear to see, all eyez on me, 400 degrees
who am i? ruthless, eazy does it
the chronic smoke in public, hate it or love it
the underdogs, with liquid swords
it was written in my diary this art of war
i’m feelin’ infamous, immortal with my technique
a revolutionary shinin’, with diamond teeth
young don cartagena, excuse my demeanor, this the glamour life
you still not a player, you ain’t half as nice
i’m born again, life after death, i made the sacrifice
i’m supa dupa fly, juicy keep them hypnotized
i said my name is juice, amerikkka’s most
ain’t no half-steppin’, see you at the crossroads

[chorus: meechy darko]
put money over b-tches on my headstone
here lies young n-gg- gettin’ paper
never take a loss on my headstone
only take a l when i’m smokin’ it
zombie gang three times on my headstone
been thuggin’ from the cradle to the grave
now your favorite rapper name on a headstone
too late, he already dead

[verse 2: erick arc elliot]
it was written in the children’s story, that life’s a b-tch
so whatcha want? everyday i struggle with it
only god can judge me slippin’, i’m infinitely big pimpin’
though the genesis, dead presidents, drop a gem on ’em
h-ll on earth, these the last dayz, throw ya guns up
get money, quiet storm, havin’ suicidal thoughts
for the c.r.e.a.m, renegade
for the money, all the green is the lemonade
i’m a player on the late night tip, shorty triple six
she the prototype, tip drill, kiss her fingertips
resevoir dogs, check the score, ignorant sh-t
blackout, can i live? h-llrazor, still feel me
kiss of death, and protect ya neck
three dope boys in a cadillac, gravediggaz
kiss of death, and protect ya neck, shame on a n-gg-
three dope boys in a cadillac, gravediggaz

[chorus: meechy darko]
put money over b-tches on my headstone
here lies young n-gg- gettin’ paper
never take a loss on my headstone
only take a l when i’m smokin’ it
zombie gang three times on my headstone
been thuggin’ from the cradle to the grave
now your favorite rapper name on a headstone
too late, he already dead

[verse 3: meechy darko]
right now i’m on the edge, so don’t push me
troublesome since ’96, you a shook one
breath easy, know the ledge, i’m your pusha
what’s that? i smell p-ssy
let me count my guns, um
5,4,3,2,1, run!
hi, my name is durt cobain
like a pimp, here i go ’til the next episode
ain’t a nann n-gg- this xxxplosive, beastcoast sh-t
blat-blat, reloaded
f-ck them other n-gg-s, ride or die for my n-gg-s
strictly 4 my n-gg-s, survival of the fittest
woop-woop! that’s the sound of the police
i’m in deep cover, skrt skrt
lean back, give me one more chance
they say jesus walks and the devil wear prada
but i’m so, so deaf, god can’t tell me nothing
write this on my death certificate, i gave you power
21 questions, like who shot ya? i shot ya!
warning, watch them n-gg-s flashin’ lights papparazi
two words, f-ck b-tches, get money
tonight’s da night, guess who’s back on my block
rather unique, i lick a shot for bucktown
this firearm, silencer on, that quiet storm
t-o-n-y, top of new york, with a pitchfork



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