[Intro]
I'm not worried about it myself, you know, cause if they come to me, talking, I think I'm a talk back, you know. I'm not gonna shut up for nobody, you know, nobody...

[Verse 1: Meechy Darko]
I'm addicted to love, lust, knowledge, and euphoria
Drugs, C and D cups, ganja and the gorier
Blood, guts, and deep cuts, Everlands, and black Timbs
Gold mouth, leopard flag, click-clack, we strapped in
I roll up, talk shit, n***as know I'm really real, big blunt of that sour
Smoke it till I catch a chill, n***as get slain over basketball game
Man, the hood may never change, all these n***as do is bang
Cops want us all in chains, chase us down the one-way
I'm too smooth in my ways, threw the stash in the drain
This twelve gauge, split a n***a, tsunami waves, bitch
I beat you ass for some shadеs and some Johnny Cage shit (coo-coo)
Rip your face off your scalp, now you got a facеlift
Beef, what's beef, that's a great dick shit, feet? That's a great ditch
Zombie Gang, NYC, we amazing, fuck NYPD, man I hate them

[Verse 2: Meechy Darko]
I, I, I, I, I, I met the reaper once, he told me that I should keep it up
And if ever my gun I clutch, then he would help me sweep it up
I got Jesus on the payroll, and if he move left, then perfect
I'm smashing and fucking high low, that's the truth, Non Phixion
150 proof, my liquor, Zombie Gang, ILL Bill, my n***a
[Chrous: ILL BILL]
Latin quarter to L'Amour east, we all beast
From across seas to cross queens, we all creeps
We, we, we all, we, we, we all, we, we, we, we all creeps
CBGB's to L'Amour east, we all beasts
Smoke PCP, kids got stabbed over graffiti beef
Gra-gra-gra-gra-gra-graffiti beef
(look at me motherfucker when I'm talking)

[Verse 3: Zombie Juice]
Flatbush Sweater, Queens get the money
Sticking to the strip, ain't a damn thing funny, hoe
Stick to the strip, if you ain't getting money
From the land of the hoe, baking sodas, and the honeys
Stick-up kids, sparing nothing but the ribs
Hop in the bang, bang, bang, bang bang bang
Peel off quick, bumping track number 6, ready to die, I'm that Big
Can't teach a old dog new tricks, my old dog got the four-fifth
And his fingers, they itch, finna smack a bitch, where's my lighter?
Roll the weed, ignite your lifer
Many individuals try to play the game, head first off your frame
Flawless victory, decapitate, and Michael Jordan, he from Brooklyn too
Where n***as get killed for they Air Jordan shoes
I don't really ball, but I'm higher than you
Smoking fire with some dreads, calculating ways to clean the spread
Cop a paddy, then I head to the liquor store
Bomb, where's the hoes that be watching all my videos?
We gon' need a few of those, Zombie maneuver those
When I was young, I used to bump that mace shit
One gold tooth, brown Timbs and a razor
Now I'm fiction, beat a n***a pulp, no kidding
[Chrous: ILL BILL]
Latin quarter to L'Amour east, we all beast
From across seas to cross queens, we all creeps
We, we, we all, we, we, we all, we, we, we, we all creeps
CBGB's to L'Amour east, we all beasts
Smoke PCP, kids got stabbed over graffiti beef
Gra-gra-gra-gra-gra-graffiti beef
(look at me motherfucker when I'm talking)

[Verse 4: Meyhem Lauren]
E-Train, last car, ten deep, left em dripping
Blacking out, catching wreck, fly tags, peace to Griffen
Sneakers was Scottie Pippen, denim was probably Guess
I’ve been Laurenoviche since then—rocking my Snow Beach vest
Dolo fresh ox on, Polo Bear socks on
Freak dancing in the backstreet with our Glocks on
Hard rocks, hammers and heaters, they kept the blocks warm
Daily objective; being gone before the cops swarm
Holding TECs, never sex, we was not porn
Streets made us then they raised us, we are not born
Gang shit was on the rise, but most my clique was neutral
Don't get it fucked up n***a, why? Most my clique will shoot you
Without beads or a bandana
Bullets will make your face blurry like a bad camera
Peace to Queens n***a, home of that fly shit
Cop killer central, you die quick, what up though?
[Chrous: ILL BILL]
Latin quarter to L'Amour east, we all beast
From across seas to cross queens, we all creeps
We, we, we all, we, we, we all, we, we, we, we all creeps
CBGB's to L'Amour east, we all beasts
Smoke PCP, kids got stabbed over graffiti beef
Gra-gra-gra-gra-gra-graffiti beef
(look at me motherfucker when I'm talking)

[Verse 5: Q-Unique]
I took the 6 train to the Bronx for infinity lessons
With the rise of the crack rock had the vicinity stressing
My Zulu medallion over whatever we was wearing
In the late '80s, we wasn’t born wild, we was made crazy
That movie 'Beat Street' was so misleading
‘Cause some of the breakers I knew were stick-up kids
That leave you cold and bleeding
It wasn’t a happier time, New York was a fucking mess
Little yellow envelope stuffed with skunk and cess
Then I’m in the back of the B-Train with a four finger ring
And a gold rope, didn’t look like a rapper
I looked like somebody that sold dope
And maybe I did, cause back home was no hope
But maybe because Rakim said he was no joke
And I wanted to be just like the God
Excelling my skill level, plus life was hard
Dog, it was more realer back then, you would either deal or rap
The industry snatched from Brooklyn, I steal it back

[Chrous: ILL BILL]
Latin quarter to L'Amour east, we all beast
From across seas to cross queens, we all creeps
We, we, we all, we, we, we all, we, we, we, we all creeps
CBGB's to L'Amour east, we all beasts
Smoke PCP, kids got stabbed over graffiti beef
Gra-gra-gra-gra-gra-graffiti beef
(look at me motherfucker when I'm talking)

[Verse 6: ILL BILL]
Double L-Train Canarsie, fit tags, drippy markers
Albee Square, Coliseum, fifty deep in Kings Plaza
Flat leavers, crack slingers, cap peelers, rap singers
Blasted Desert Eagles, turning tracks forever ether
While the war planes scatter nukes, cross-played splatter goons
Sautéed magic shrooms, more strange antics soon
Blasting "Paid In Full," Dog Day Afternoon
Had to pay my dues, fought James after school
I snuffed John Hayes in front of Captain Video
Next to the Arch Diner, Joey Haskell was with me too
That was before the gunplay and Dapper Dan jackets
Bootleg Timberland leathers and automatic ratchets
Before Artie Artelino blew his face off
Playing Russian Roulette after he vacuumed up a 8-ball
From childhood to manhood in Kings County
From my hood to yours, we represent it proudly
Represent New York, represent Rowdy
Represent my whole crew, represent Howie

[Chrous: ILL BILL]
Latin quarter to L'Amour east, we all beast
From across seas to cross queens, we all creeps
We, we, we all, we, we, we all, we, we, we, we all creeps
CBGB's to L'Amour east, we all beasts
Smoke PCP, kids got stabbed over graffiti beef
Gra-gra-gra-gra-gra-graffiti beef
(look at me motherfucker when I'm talking)