Flatbush Zombies - BetterOffDead Tour Cypher 2 lyrics

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Flatbush Zombies - BetterOffDead Tour Cypher 2 lyrics

[Zombie Juice] I been here, you been where Life ain't sweet, no beach chair Arc dropping samples, gotta clear air Still hustle everyday, like there's no care I pray everyday, too much sin n***as at the top, soon fallin Man, I got nothin to lose Probably be on front page bringing up the old ways f** your major corporations, the government they rapists Don't matter where you're from, grab your motherf**in' gun When they run up in your crib, spray em down like it's fun And they don't give a f** if we living in hell As long as they can make money off of motherf**in tales From Kanye to Kimmy, Chris Brown, Rihanna They wanna see us lose, our relationships are ??? When n***as in the hood, ain't got no f**in shoes Nah, we smarter, we gotta change the game It's our f**in world, it's time to make the claim Bang bang [Bodega Bamz] 100 keep it, I live, die by my own hands Somebody bodyin me is not in my program It's ironic that I called my code[?] Lohan Spank a young n***a till he turn into a grown man And I'm not a grown man, got nothing to prove Buck 50 on pretty face, I got money to lose I got b**hes to choose from And please no hickeys b**h that's rule 1 My baby mother wild, me and my 10 boys pow-wow At the round table check your cell phones 40 cals, my Glock never on safety n***a never played me, n***a never robbed me Bullet never grazed me, wha**up ho? I'mma give you what you need Some hard dick and coke, i'mma put up in yo a**hole It's ironic they want beef with the cash cow[?] I'm trying to get in this motherf**er and cash out A couple bottles of brown water When the sun up, papi pa** out Cold as ice, anty up when we mash out Homie that's real talk, raised on Baltic Ave Now I walk the bro walk[???] [Meechy Darko] Posin for photos, pistol in hand Collar open like Han Solo, who rolled 6 grams Don't even pa** us ?????? 9 in yo chest, 9 in yo spine, Tony Romo My liquor dark, my b**hes light Pussies a h*mo[?] I'm from the ghetto where we recycle our paper plates And everybody got a relative upstate n***a I'm talking gel[?] upstate, not a crip[?] upstate Hawk tyres tyring[?] rather you duct tape Or I could fibre wire them, extended clips are my specialty Especially when aimed at enemies with benefits Ain't got a license for my whip, or my weaponry But f**in n***as still ride out for them presidents But only for Franklin, Benjamin Gun bu*t ya, cut ya, I snuff ya with that snub nose I'm robbing every local deli for molly And pronto ?????? pop a molly, I just pop a tab Open a bag of dat maui wowie, roll it take a drag [?????] Won't ever stop me, zombies on yo a** Most of these n***as is carbon copies Harlem get the cash, [???] I like my head sloppy, b**h [Bodega Bamz] I got a girl, but I really need a wife at home (4x) I'm gone