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letra de betteroffdead tour cypher - flatbush zombies

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[zombie juice]
i be gone ’till november, i got packs to move
like wyclef jean without the s-x scandal
dismantle and handle any rap dude from new york to l.a
ya’ mc’ll get ate, greedy little n-gga’ never share off the plates
racks on a b-tch, naw, wraps on my d-ck, pause
back smack a b-tch rapper, blowing loud, been dapper
blasted, buggin’ off bacardi and acid
represent my city, these other n-gga’s sh-tty
maino told me n-gga’s gotta’ stick together
n-gga’s throwin’ over broads like 50 or mayweather
while half the industry hates on me
i independently, made half a mili’ in a year
still i’m ahead of my prime
and if sleep’s the cousin of death ya’ falling in line
zombie!

[meechy darko]
f-ck the bloggers brah
most your posts are straight bolognia
check any continent they won’t find spitters as hot as us
my consciousness, mindf-ck, and make her pineal hymen bust
vomit lava, brah, i’ll melt any thermometer
poison on the television
baby let me crack handle white
jesus answers to the prayers of a black man
my third eye see through your insides like a cat scan
got ‘dat cha-cha-cha-cha-chopper out & it will not jam
death around the corner, i hear’em callin’
paranoia from smoking this marijuana
we all liars, so i guess we all lawyers
if you ain’t loyal then you should be in the soil
hash oil, soarin’, saucer
see most of my shows out in norway, awesome
new day different hoes, same sh-t, different toilet
punchlines better than that smack you been snortin’
past life, writing my rhymes down in papyrus
acid flashbacks dropping micro-grams in my eyelids
psilocybin my stylist, look in the mirror for guidance
i am who they really trying to clone with they rhymin’
but their scenes ain’t as mean, painting scenes, meech (stalley)?
acid drops from the melting cup ???
n-gga’s been known for years and i’m still f-ckin’ hungry
that ain’t the beat bangin’ that’s the rumble in my tummy
the fronto leaf baggies perspire
and a n-gga still sittin’ on wicker then the weed don’t expire
says he needs some new bullets, my car gon’ need some new tires
your baby boy needs new pampers, but baby i ain’t the father
b-tch!

[erick arc elliot]
grown men be acting childish
when will we stop the violence?
broke the b-tch and fixed it like them presidential ballots
obscure, not mature, not performed, just the norm
a little bit of everything, a little bit of mary jane
listening to mary sing “spring memories”
bumping through my tweet and see my divas in their denim jeans
crack rock is in my melody, infecting everything you see
all dreams oh yes indeed i got the potency of peace
investing in my destiny, not like we can all be free
until my expiration i give all of me, like i ought to be
i order me a number three at the chinese spot, i rhyme a lot
these figments in my head, will never find my heart
??? baby boy, sigmund freud, since the story goes
on the maury shows, i rap it all ’till close
slap, fracture, slaughter hoes
k!ll a boy, still avoid, similar to rivers boy, i’m still annoyed
towering – sound speak louder than i cl1ck clack
empty weapons pull ya’ melon back
i roll with h-lla cats who know the traps
so who you tellin’ black? take a shot and cough and throw it back
sh-t, my shawty is a lie like the zodiac
i’m smokin’ weed for all the time i never noticed that
i sparked the chalice on my stoop like i can’t hold it back
if you came to be a reasonable opponent
for you zone with, i hold the microphone like it’s golden
motherf-cker!

[bodega bamz]
same nightmare, sleeping in my beach chair
i ain’t got a chip on my shoulder but i don’t f-cking care
been there, done that, b-tches always comeback
just like my cocaine dealing on the comeback
if i could keep everybody happy i would do that
but it would be one driver, n-gga screw that
i still get the “who that?”, i’m still getting lied to
forgetful mother f-ckers like “i never supplied you”
minus the bullsh-t, must i divide you
should have realised you, i sat right beside you
pain is temporary mind you
you mind if i remind you every second because i don’t mind to
where should i sign at? kid from the corner
no diploma, no graduation cap up in the air
my thoughts get recorded, some n-ggas come home, my n-ggas get deported
tan boyz did this, sh-t it’s in my blood
i’m pulling for a war, i’m ready you can tell, right on tongue
back pocket tan bandanna
all my papis gucci, brave like atlanta
faring for a come up, sh-t i’m too short for that
california dreaming in my la dodger hat
we all gotta win, n0body doubted that
jumping out of benzes to jump in the dollar cab
don’t ask why n-gga, that’s how i keep it
i break hearts now you hate me to pieces
this drug sh-t i speak it , this fake sh-t i peep it
you reap what you sew, make sure you look decent
i’m from the rotten manzana, it ain’t peaches and cream in my pocket
‘cos everyday i need it
student of the game before, now i teach it
never sucked d-ck, i leave it to the leeches
or leave it to the b-tches
old told me go in, cart and gina believed
rube say we golden
had a cold shoulder, now my att-tude is frozen
throwin’ powder in the air the streets said i’m chosen
one before i go, rest in peace big pun and salido
puh,puh,puh,papiz

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