Flatbush Zombies – Headstone


Kiss of death, reprotect ya neck
5,4,3,2,1 run

Too late, he already dead
Here lies young nigga gettin’ paper
Victory, victory
T Gold on my neck, Mr.
Now your favorite rapper name on a headstone
Zombie gang reppin’ that NYC

Only take a L when I’m smokin’ it
Ice round my neck like I’m Lil Weeze
21 questions, like who shot ya? I shot ya!
I’m super duper fly, Juice’ll keep them hypnotized

Yeah, I’m born to mack
T-O-N-Y, top of New York, with a pitchfork
Strictly for my niggas, survival of the fittest
[Chorus: Meechy Darko]
Zombie gang three times on my headstone
Put money over bitches on my headstone
Only take a L when I’m smokin’ it
Victory, victory
You still not a player, you ain’t half as nice
Money over bitches on my headstone
Hell on earth, these the last days, throw your guns up

Been thuggin’, from the cradle to the grave
Fuck them other niggas, ride or die for my niggas
Zombie gang three times on my headstone
Three dope boyz in a Cadillac, Gravediggaz
The underdogs, with liquid swords
We run this shit like a pair of cleats
BRR-BRR reload it
[Chorus: Meechy Darko]
I’m a player on the late night tip, shorty triple six
Though the genesis, dead presidents, drop a gem on them

Let me count my guns, hum
Been thuggin’ from the cradle to the grave
Resevoir Dogs, check the scar, ignorant shit
Put money over bitches on my headstone
I smell pussy What’s that?
I’m in deep cover, skrr skrr

For the money, only green is the lemonade
Imagine when you’re thirty thousand feet up what you think of?Boy, I hated knowin’ that my thoughts would turn to dreams
It’s hell on earth with this rap beat
I’m born to kill, life after death, I made the sacrifice
‘Cause I never knew I’d get my chance to link up
I’m livin’ how I wanna, no reasonable doubt
Here lies young nigga gettin’ paper
Kiss of death, reprotect ya neck, shame on a nigga
Troublesome since ’96, you a shook one
So what you want? Everyday I struggle with it
Here lies young nigga gettin’ paper

But your favorite rapper’s name up on a headstone
She the prototype, Tip drill, kiss the fingertips
Hi my name is Dirt Cobain
[Verse 4: Meechy Darko]
It’s dark in Hell, it’s hot so leave me where I’m at
Ain’t no half-steppin’, see you at the crossroads
Biggie Big for the cheese and you’re dead wrong
[Verse 3: Erick Arc Elliot]
But I’m so, so deaf, God can’t tell me nothing
Rather you need dollar, get shot in Bucktown
Zombie gang three times on my headstone
[Verse 2: Zombie Juice]
Two words, fuck bitches, get money
Never take a loss on my headstone
It was written in my diary to start a war
Boy, I tell you, all of this unusual to me
Records on my death certificate, I gave you power
Now your favorite rapper name on a headstone
Ruthless, easy does it Who am I?
Only god can judge me slippin’, I’m infinitely big pimpin’
Ain’t another nigga this explosive, beastcoast shit
A revolutionary shinin’, with diamond teeth
Never take a loss on my headstone

Three dope boyz in a Cadillac, Gravediggaz
Been thuggin’ from the cradle to the grave
The chronic, smoke it in public, hate it or love it
Warning, watch them niggas flashin’ like papparazi
Never take a loss on my headstone
Young don, Cartagena, excuse my demeanor, this the glamour life
They say Jesus walks and the Devil wear Prada
Blackout, can I live? Hell raiser, still feel me
Only take a L when I’m smokin’ it
I’m feelin’ infamous, immortal with my technique
[Verse 1: Erick Arc Elliot]
Now your favorite rapper name on a headstone
It’s clear to see, all eyez on me, four hundred degrees
I said my name is Juice, America’s most
[Chorus: Meechy Darko]
Breath easy on the ledge, I’ma push ya
[Intro: Zombie Juice]
For the C.R.E.A.M, renegade
Leaned back, give me one more chance
It was written in a children’s story, that life’s a bitch
Victory, victory
I hit it doggystyle, she throw it back
Right now I’m on the edge, so don’t push me
Propaganda set the standards in the terror dome
Swear I came from the bottom, Flatbush livin’, walkin’ dead on
That’s the sound of the police Woo-woo!
Too late, he already dead
Like a pimp, here I go to the next episode
Get money, Quiet Storm, havin’ suicidal thoughts
Tonight’s the night, guess who’s back on my block
This firearm, silencer on, that quiet storm

Too late, he already dead