Flatbush ZOMBiES – New Phone, Who Dis? lyrics

[Intro: Erick Arc Elliot]
Not a good time unless I smoke mine
Too many drugs that make you go blind
Too many thugs that work for more crime
And my nigga show love, unless we get
Not a good time unless I smoke mine
Too many drugs that make you go blind
Too many thugs that work for more crime
And my nigga show love unless we get violent
 
[Verse 1: Erick Arc Elliot]
Wildin', this is for my niggas that smoke weed
Live life by the day, count the proceed
Blow it back, blowin' cash in the OZ
Miss the phone, got it on, looking closely
Only independent, we don't need a co-sign
Jah shit, the bud make arms in no time
It's the fourth quarter at the baseline
Kissing your daughter, Mary Jane high
Just the same guys Juice, Darko, and I remarkable times
Ultra dead minds
Zombie-Bape line, no harm it takes time
Enjoy the palm trees
We on vacation
 
[Hook: Meechy Darko]
Rang, rang
Who that calling? The money or the fame
Shit ain't the same since we crept in the game
So I get high and try to maintain
My celly rang, rang
Who that calling? The money or the fame
Shit ain't the same since we stepped in the game
So I get high and try to maintain
 
[Verse 2: Meechy Darko]
Gloves on, murder one, homi'
They'll be looking for the prince, like King Jaffe
Smoking Moroccan hashish
With my slanted eye, zombie mommy
Hennessy fill my body
These other rappers copy, oops
I forgot to mention, wrote this in another dimension
Zombie gang, be what I'm repping
Pussy so good I need seconds to step in
Two Mac 11s with twenty K on the necklace and a Heckler Koch
Bought this for the hecklers that be neck in cock
On a mission, clearest vision
Views from the scope from my Glock
Only high percentage shots
You with one eye like Fetty Wap
With my block, Flatbush Ave, rotten flesh and money knots
Never trust these hoes, I never did, never will
I pop a tab and crack a seal, zombie gang, drugs kill
Never lied, if I did then let me fry - Futurama
And these Jordans on my feet don't come out 'til next summer
Pretty grungy like Nirvana
Dirt Cobain is what she holla
When I dropped this dick inside her
Only fuck her if she legal, I don't break the laws like Tyga
Unless it's moving LSD, lean and shrooms and marijuana
If I ever pay for pussy it was with counterfeit dollars
Ugly niggas still getting bitches
I'm like the second Shabba
Hit the trigger 'til my fingers blister
If I got a problem, paint his top - Dennis Rodman
I'm superficial and conscious
I'm a walking contradiction
I'ma burn in hell probably but I'ma keep Satan waiting
I ain't done fornicating with women in every flavour
Eating pussy with chop sticks
You know I love my Asians
You would think, USC who he play with
Trojan helmet on, put her in the backspace
And then I hit the escape key in the bank
With the Jason mask, asking where the safe is
Catch me motorcycle, black and gold Letterman
Saint Laurent, leopard print
I stampede any beat
Nigga I ain't got no preference
I'm setting precedents while chasing Presidents
My mic presence is heaven sent
It's like I got an extra sense, no censorship
I'm in my essence, limitless, no blemishes
My penmanship, a Erving J is jus' always leads to swish
I roll and pick, then blow a zip
You can blow my dick and eat my excrement
 
[Verse 3: Zombie Juice]
Smoke to death, might lose my ears
Walking dead, can't feel my tears
Fake love in disguise
I repute those that get near
I let my soul fly like fruits from our peers
I got some questions, I got some weed, I got some acid
Needlepoint LSD
I got a bad bitch we could settle fees
And if your eyes open there is still more to see
They try to tell me I was wrong
I'm still looking
Last night I spent a couple hours up in Central Bookings
Only had a dub but I was trapping prostitution
Weed, coca leaves, percs and LSD
Two hundred for the bottle
Add it up, more for me
Thinking back, I'm still here it's lovely
Ripping shows and blowing cheese
Oh, you love me? Soon we'll see
Palm trees and double Ds
They want that old shit?
Well, fuck y'mean?
 
[Hook: Meechy Darko]
Rang, rang
Who that calling? The money or the fame
Shit ain't the same since we crept in the game
So I get high and try to maintain
My celly rang, rang
 
[Outro: Phone call]
Shine on these niggas
Glide on these niggas
Show these niggas what the business is, nigga
Zombie Gang, nigga
Huh? Zombie Gang, nigga
Half-dead, nigga
We living life, nigga
Nigga stole the dead the way we living, like, so crazy man
So trill, nigga
Aye, up top, nigga—up top, uh, uh