Bodega Bamz – Bring Em Out Lyrics (feat. Flatbush Zombies) | New Today Lyrics

[Spoken Intro] [Verse 1: Bodega Bamz]Tour bus looking like a brothel
Catching more bodies than Hostel
Flatbush Zombies put money in my pocket
If it’s war against them, I’ma pop it
Word like apostles
Kid from the ghetto listening to heavy metal, rock rolled in my sock
I ain’t never been afraid, renegade got bars like mess halls
Locked three meals in the cot, nigga, what?
p*ssy at noon got me feeling brand new
When the sun come down, I’m leavin’
f*ck I look like? A fool?
Throwing shade like cool, bitch don’t wake me up, I’m dreamin’
Puff, puff, pass, that’s old school
I’m getting yesterday’s paper, that’s old news
The way I’m programmed, I never hold hands
Straight business, first class, never the coach
I’ma handle the game the way I handle the coke
Hand to hand on Instagram, picture the post
Nigga, picture me broke, I got a pitcher of Henny
I know my liver be ready for adios, but I’m stuck like
I’m a sure thing, I don’t close call
I mean we all kings, but there’s one god
There’s one Allah, there’s one Jah, bless[Hook: Bodega Bamz]Bring ’em out, bring ’em out
All them p*ssy ass niggas, bring ’em out, bring ’em out
Bring ’em out, bring ’em out
All them p*ssy ass niggas, bring ’em out, bring ’em out
Bring ’em out, bring ’em out
All them lying ass niggas, bring ’em out, bring ’em out
Bring ’em out, bring ’em out
All them lying ass niggas, bring ’em out, bring ’em out

[Verse 2: Erick Arc Elliott]Now I pose for pictures, can’t f*ck with you, be more specific
Cross me like when you beg forgiveness
I didn’t like your vibe so I kept my distance
Niggas do it all for the paper
Institution was made then strewn to little girls and boys
But now “the world is yours,” my nigga please
I done gross over a hundred G’s
That’s a lot of of money, still I’m screaming, “f*ck the police!”
In my motions I can’t pretend that I’m different than you
But nigga listen and pay attention when I make a move
Vision blurred, I don’t see no deterrence
But seeing the same niggas then saying the same words
Cycling that nature, puffing the same flavor
My niggas is Tanboys, original delegators
We ripping the floor panel and all
With a matter of force we go and handle you boys
We only family of course[Verse 3: Meechy Darko]Nobody ever gave a f*ck about us, you never believed
Can’t believe they f*cking doubted, now they can see

Child of the corn, Darko, freak off the leash
Rather unique, who art thou Van Gogh?
Randy Savage on beats, I bark proud, pitbull
If you break in my house he bark wild, f*ck you talking ’bout?!
Lil nigga I spark proud, pop a band
Throw up bread, you should learned it by now
Make ’em say, “ugh,” then examine her mouth
Then it’s get to stepping, I’m kicking Pamela out (Get to stepping!)
That Tommy hold a lot of slugs might be a hundred rounds
Them Flatbush niggas a shmurda ya, rusty tre pounds
Shoot you and throw it in the air, like a cap and gown
I demand the throne and the crown, tell ’em I want it now (Ha!)
Hair swinging when I’m shooting like O-Dog in that movie
Zombie gang fully lucid, Bathing Ape, fully draped
GG Allin lucky I ain’t get to shit on his grave
Knuckle it behind bars like a prisoner in cage
Johnny Cage, black shades, hit off half yo face
My orange box-cutter make the world rotate
My orange box-cutter make the world rotate
On its axis, acid, sheets that ain’t for the mattress, bastard

[Verse 4: Zombie Juice]I need a honor roll for this shit, I need a honor roll for this shit
Thank the Lord it’s lit, thank the Lord it’s lit
Hopping out a bodega, need a pack, never later, later
Flatbush, Tanboy stylin’ (WHOO!)
All my niggas get lit like a chalice, all my niggas get lit like a chalice
Cookies in my blunt, liquor in my gut, most you niggas suck
I’m on top of the world like Brandy said
So high, so high like Michel’le
Feeling unstoppable every bone and my particles
In the cut blowing tropicals
And they said it’s impossible for a black young man to kill this shit
For a tan young man to kill this shit
So, more or less I do my thing
No stress, no crane, progression, mane
More or less we do our thing
No stress, no crane, progression, mane[Hook: Bodega Bamz]Bring ’em out, bring ’em out
All them p*ssy ass niggas, bring ’em out, bring ’em out
Bring ’em out, bring ’em out
All them p*ssy ass niggas, bring ’em out, bring ’em out
Bring ’em out, bring ’em out
All them lying ass niggas, bring ’em out, bring ’em out
Bring ’em out, bring ’em out
All them lying ass niggas, bring ’em out, bring ’em out
Bring ’em out, bring ’em out
All them p*ssy ass niggas, bring ’em out, bring ’em out
Bring ’em out, bring ’em out
Where the hoes? Where the hoes? Bring ’em out, bring ’em out