HELL-O Lyrics by Flatbush Zombies
[Verse 1 – Zombie Juice & Erick Arc Elliot]
Got a bad b—h and she blowing sticky
This Gelato and I’m blowing 50
If you pull it on my then you better kill me
Kamikaze taking n—-s with me
Know I’m scummy, know I’m skinny
Them big pockets counting plenty
Ain’t no money you could lend me
Bonny, Clide, Bobby, Witney
From the first of first you know I hold it down
Log it in spread the word around
Wedding cake terps like crystals now
I’m moving on they say I’m different now
Call investigation this a perp
Deem it certain and screaming red alert
Most you suckers gotta make it work
Just remember where you heard it first
Problematic s–t get automatic
F—–g cowards they don’t want no static
I’m from the towers Flatbush full of power
Came up selling sour making thousands
Came up selling sour making thousands
Came up selling sour making thousands
[Verse 2 – Meechy Darko]
Fleezus Christ don’t say my name in vain
Fire, brimstone, acid rain
Watch me turn the crowd into a Spartan scene
Mosh pit then I’m Moses, part the sea
Acid-acid-acid-acid yuh, I think I’m back up on them drugs again
Acid acid acid acid yuh, I think I’m back up on them drugs again
[Verse 3 – Erick]
Yeah I see the 12
I don’t want to see the cell
You won’t see me in some nooses
Young and reckless what the moon is
Fix yourself up n—a what you doing?
Patrick Young
Keep these haters blocked you hear the shots
I’m not just saying Pac catered to relatable and the shaded ones
[Verse 4 – Meech]
Man f–k that *mumbles* that mumble rap
It’s that skully low rumble rap
I’ll do 50 years if the police find what’s inside my duffle bag
Moma shoulda named me trouble man
Got shrooms I ain’t talking truffles and
Got sheets I ain’t talking slumbers and
Rat-tat-tat slide up in your trap
Like Kramer in through your window like Bird-Man
Now the pigs in my head like I’m Harley Quinn
Zombie Gang check my accomplishments
It’s Meechy Dark still not the father b—h
[Verse 5 – Zombie Juice]
Keeping hundreds in the shoe box
Straight cash pop a few thots
Father n—-s Big Pop
Chauncey Billups, I’m a big shot
Red alert get your s–t popped
Heavy on it full of big rocks
Flatbush Zombies got this s–t locked
Mad Max is in the gridlock
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