Текст песни Zombie - Y2

Gotta keep a chopper on me
That can hold enough heat on that bitch it could steam up a lobster
As long as my niggas keep trusting these mutha fuckin' doctors
There will be a zombie apocalypse
Scratch off the pistol with one of them nickels
Don't want to but will kill a lot of my niggas
You come for my son I put one in ya temple
Like somebody church bout to go out of business
Don't need estheticians it came with extensions
I'm sticking to this like a lashes technician
Still fucking the system
I'm back in this bitch like some birth control
Poppin' a percocet tripping
I keep it three sixes
But stay in Christian Dior with some bitches in praying position
I'm not into voodoo
But if she do drop me a pin
Then I'm poking her doll nothing mutual

Still on my rituals not even Creole or Haitian decent
Nigga pardon my French
Always ride with a twig and a trigger come with it
I sit on that bitch like I'm in here with witches
While sipping on something with demons inside of my cup
That is similar medicine beverage
I am still tippin' convinced that my heart is not red
That shit purple like medals for veterans
Got all my limbs and a few extra arms
If you tryna get buff
I go Shia LaBeouf with that Allen Iverson mentality
Then get inside of the truck and start driving it up
You think I give a fuck
Nigga mine as well put ya own dick in ya butt
Nigga fuckin' yaself
At a speed goin' no faster than about twenty five miles per hour
I show you the shower
The towels ain't needed
Ain't stopping the bleeding
I'm popping