Thrilla lyrics

[Verse 1: Meechy Darko]
From Flatbush to Broadway
n*ggas shootin' up the ave in broad day
Tanboys got that tan sh*t
We got more quarters than the arcade
Butterfly blade, face sauteed
I laugh and then, rip off face
And sew it on my letterman
And slowdance on your carcass
I'm rollin, I mean Ronin
Life is just a car chase
Bullseye on your third eye
Red dot on your target
Blood smear on your friends near
Now your homies is shark baits
Bullets in the diem, no carpe
You copy? Like dub tapes
I'm really bout that fetti, Pa
Shoot a b*tch over my bread like Remy Ma
Peel off (vroom vroom)
Now your city block
Renegade living like a never seen the cops
Everything stay schemin' and I've seen the plot
When your words are your weapon you don't need no Glock
When your words are your weapon you don't need no Glock
[Verse 2: Zombie Juice]
Tanboys, Zombie bonded in blood metal slugs
Blood runneth over
Could you sip it any slower? Hold up hold up
Row up, get your hoes up, we gettin' trippy
Got four hoes with me, they down to swallow
Down a bottle of that tan juice, drop a bottle
Get your head loose, Brooklyn
Them shots rang uptown, that block game
Make more money than cops do ‘cause the block fool
n*ggas ain't on my shuttle
n*ggas don't know that I come through with the snorkel
Got the gun too and it rip through
One one two, f*ck f*ck you
Shootin' n*ggas in threes, like Reggie Miller
Zombie game, man, f*ck y'all n*ggas
Juice be the name, got love for the green
Came from the bottom, ain't never gone aim
Bomb on you n*ggas like Hiroshim
I'm Mean Gene, blowin' hella green
Got my seat back and my heat strapped
And you layin' dead on the street smacked
Peep that, smoke a blunt then relax (relax)

[Verse 3: Bodega Bamz]
Brown water, my tan juice
100 keep that loose on deck
Chain so heavy might lose my neck
Lose my life never lose respect
I stamp down this papi talk
I run the town your papis walk
No cosign (n*gga f*ck that sh*t)
She tryna chill? n*gga f*ck that b*tch
(Spanish) Maricon gran puta Like a barracuda
Eat the pus*y up, heart jumpin' out her hooters
SSI so to find my n*gga Luca
Loco 730 f*ckboy
I make a n*gga look up like a pump fake
You won't electrocute of that duct tape
Go roll, see, smell; Serve Colgate
That's blanco, color coordinate
A dead witness is a cold case, put new dope in that old vein)
Ignore the pain, we the New, New York
In this old game, yall rappers look pale
Learn to survive since Oregon Trail
I'mma just win never tie or trail
This n*gga pus*y leave him holy like the grail
Picture me scared, frame hangin' off a nail
Nah not me
I'm the one, not two, so high I see three
Like Paul