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HELL-O Video (MV)






Flatbush Zombies - HELL-O Lyrics
Official




Got a bad bitch and she blowing sticky
This gelato and I'm blowing 50
If you pull it on me, then you better kill me
Kamikaze, taking niggas with me
Know I'm scummy, know I'm skinny
Them big pockets counting plenty
Ain't no money you could lend me
Bonnie, Clyde, Bobby, Whitney
From the first of first, you know I hold it down
Log it in, spread the word around
Wedding cake, terps like crystals now
I'm moving on, they say I'm different now
Call investigation, this a perp
Deem it certain, screaming red alert
Most you suckers gotta make it work
Just remember where you heard it first
Problematic shit get automatic
F*cking cowards, they don't want no static
I'm from the towers, Flatbush full of power
Came up selling sour, making thousands
Came up selling sour, making thousands
Came up selling sour, making thousands

Fleezus Christ, don't say my name in vain
Fire, brimstone, acid rain
Watch me turn the crowd into a Spartan scene
Mosh pit, then I'm Moses, part the sea
Acid, acid, acid, acid, yah
I think I'm back up on them drugs again
Acid, acid, acid, acid, yah
I think I'm back up on them drugs again

Yeah I see the 12
I don't want to see the cell
You won't see me in some nooses
Young and reckless, what the moon is
Fix yourself up nigga, what you doing?
Patrick Ewing
Keep these haters blocked, you hear the shots
I'm not just saying Pac catered to relatable and the shaded ones

Man f*ck that, that mumble rap
It's that skully low rumble rap
I'll do 50 years
If the police find what's inside my duffle bag
Moma shoulda named me Trouble Man
Got shrooms, I ain't talking truffles and
Got sheets, I ain't talking slumbers and
Rat-tat-tat, slide up in your trap
Like Kramer, in through your window like Bruh Man
Now the pigs in my head like I'm Harley Quinn
Zombie Gang, check my accomplishments
It's Meechy Dark, still not the father bitch

Keeping hundreds in the shoe box
Straight cash pop a few thots
Father niggas, Big Pop'
Chauncey Billups, I'm the big shot
Red alert, get your shit popped
Avianne for the big rocks
Flatbush Zombies got this shit locked
Mad Max in the gridlock
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Got a bad bitch and she blowing sticky
This gelato and I'm blowing 50
If you pull it on me, then you better kill me
Kamikaze, taking niggas with me
Know I'm scummy, know I'm skinny
Them big pockets counting plenty
Ain't no money you could lend me
Bonnie, Clyde, Bobby, Whitney
From the first of first, you know I hold it down
Log it in, spread the word around
Wedding cake, terps like crystals now
I'm moving on, they say I'm different now
Call investigation, this a perp
Deem it certain, screaming red alert
Most you suckers gotta make it work
Just remember where you heard it first
Problematic shit get automatic
F*cking cowards, they don't want no static
I'm from the towers, Flatbush full of power
Came up selling sour, making thousands
Came up selling sour, making thousands
Came up selling sour, making thousands

Fleezus Christ, don't say my name in vain
Fire, brimstone, acid rain
Watch me turn the crowd into a Spartan scene
Mosh pit, then I'm Moses, part the sea
Acid, acid, acid, acid, yah
I think I'm back up on them drugs again
Acid, acid, acid, acid, yah
I think I'm back up on them drugs again

Yeah I see the 12
I don't want to see the cell
You won't see me in some nooses
Young and reckless, what the moon is
Fix yourself up nigga, what you doing?
Patrick Ewing
Keep these haters blocked, you hear the shots
I'm not just saying Pac catered to relatable and the shaded ones

Man f*ck that, that mumble rap
It's that skully low rumble rap
I'll do 50 years
If the police find what's inside my duffle bag
Moma shoulda named me Trouble Man
Got shrooms, I ain't talking truffles and
Got sheets, I ain't talking slumbers and
Rat-tat-tat, slide up in your trap
Like Kramer, in through your window like Bruh Man
Now the pigs in my head like I'm Harley Quinn
Zombie Gang, check my accomplishments
It's Meechy Dark, still not the father bitch

Keeping hundreds in the shoe box
Straight cash pop a few thots
Father niggas, Big Pop'
Chauncey Billups, I'm the big shot
Red alert, get your shit popped
Avianne for the big rocks
Flatbush Zombies got this shit locked
Mad Max in the gridlock
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Dimitri Simms, Antonio Lewis, Erick Elliott
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.


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