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letra de afterlife - flatbush zombies

[intro: erick arc elliott]
yeah, yeah

[verse 1: erick arc elliot & meechy darko]
there’s some things i can’t help learnin’
the time, man, it made me feel selfish (selfish)
the time, man, it make me real nervous (nervous)
but that made me a real person
anything sus’ i’m allergic (allergic)
i grew up in the hood, i deserve it
pay for my name, tryna maintain
we’re the same when the day ain’t perfect
i’m a slave on the mothership
nba, nfl, not on politics
got bored on them, got awards on ’em
nowadays they’re treatin’ music like tourism
what is hot, what is not? (what is not?)
what is different when you’re not (when you’re not)
still i’m grippin’ on the dot (on the dot)
paranoid when i’m countin’ every dollar
’cause tomorrow ain’t promised when you’re black
should i say anybody goin’ through it like i did, skin color hybrid
one false move, send them bullets through your cartilage
12 circle block but they still run where i live
buddy get in line for the slot
got to figure out to add time to the clock
tick-tick, tock to the tick-tick, tock
load the mac, brrt back, when this sh-t finna drop, huh

[chorus: zombie juice & meechy darko]
oh my, oh my
i’m just tryna catch the vibe (that vibe)
i’m just tryna live my life (that life)
all we know is sacrifice
oh my, oh my (oh my)
i’m just tryna catch the vibe (that vibe)
i just wanna make it right (make it right)
’til we reach the afterlife
oh my, oh my (oh, my)
i’m just tryna catch the vibe (that vibe)
i’m just tryna live my life (my life)
all we know is sacrifice (sacrifice)
oh my, oh my (oh, my)
i’m just tryna catch the vibe (that vibe)
i just wanna make it right (make it right)
’til we reach the afterlife

[verse 2: meechy darko]
i wanna [?] you up when you trip too much
acid, acid, say i trip too much
talk a lot of sh-t, give lip too much
exposure, showin’ how i live too much
heart on my sleeve, think i give too much
i love shootin’ from the hip too much
wild boy, never second jobs for money
high boy, meet me in the clouds for certain
crowd boy, marksman, styles will rumble
about four face facts, this i humble
if the world was mine, i would watch it crumble
toxic mind, i get in lots of trouble
bartender, please give me double
sh-t on the rocks, i sing a lot
but that’s okay, it’s been zero f-cks
i swear i got more f-cks

- flatbush zombies

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