plug addicts - flatbush zombies & rza lyrics
[intro: erick the architect]
yeah, uh
[verse 1: erick the architect]
plug addicts, they love rappin’ with me
zombie gang my regime, we duck the traffic of ds
so i’m chasin’ the speed, another slap on my knee
somehow i chose this rappin’, instead of wrappin’ a key
mackin’ the g, my sh*t intact, so we tap with our feet
rather unique rza craft, this immaculate beat
blast with the heat, impact with this accuracy
last one to sleep, just imagine what happened to me
factory made back to the graves and they microwave
and type of sh*t that make a n*gga turn the mic away
and type of sh*t that make a n*gga take your life away
live now or die today, ‘causе we ain’t used to holidays
we ain’t usеd to common place
we ain’t got no common sense
we ain’t got no confidence
f*ck a nine*to*five, a n*gga worth the length of monuments
lion hearted, tiger face
any corner, time and place, architect the time it takes
inner city, out of state, and globally we out of sp*ce
[verse 2: rza]
wait up arc, hold up, wait, never in a sober state
hundred k, we hold the date, i understand we overtake
zombie juice coordinate, we got more dough to make
darko n*gga, hold the weight, flow colder than dakota states
triple og, beats break a f*ckin’ shoulder blade
strings glidin’ like n*ggas upon a rollerblade
[verse 3: meechy darko]
k!llin’ you n*ggas, pass the shovel, i’m diggin’ your ditches
pitiful, i leave you critical under one condition
i threw my doggy off the roof, he wouldn’t fetch my paper
black rambo in nike vandals, expand coke, that’s not love
glock tucked, shootin’ slow*motion just like john wu fl!cks
white doves, black gloves, cut the tongues off loose lips
p*ss on your grave, suck your mudda, i give two sh*ts
might rob your favorite rapper, mama need rims for her new whip
never was a little n*gga, signed my own permission slips
the acid hits by sunrise, n*gga, that’s the day trip
close your eyes and imagine if n*ggas lived out
just exactly what they rappin’ and you’d have to stand out
from what would you press on vinyl packagin’
buck forty a rapper face and tell his shawty “keep the change”
i can not be tamed
[verse 4: zombie juice]
this a murder scene, turn this sh*t to*
i’m in the passenger, my b*tch drunk, she feelin’ good
smellin’ sweet like lavender
i got a body in the trunk, had to check for cameras
and the weed was kinda skunk
hope we don’t get stopped for nothin’
see the cops, we gotta run
put the pedal to the floor, got a shovel and a sword
we can hack him into pieces, burn them up, buried in feces
black suit like john wick, she got the braid like tomb raider
i check the news, we targets, interviews with our neighbors
hope we make it out the state before they setup checkpoints
ain’t tryna see them big gates, won’t let them take me alive
and if you snitch on me b*tch, i hope it eat you alive
text abuela, we’ll see you mañana, don’t worry nana
can’t use our credit cards, ’cause they track all the places
but we runnin’ out of gas and we can’t hide our faces
“sh*t, you seen them blue lights?”
she said “don’t think we can make it”
shots fired, woke up on a hospital bed
enemy of the state, cop k!ller what they said
[outro: erick the architect]
plug addicts, they love rappin’ with me
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