2-3 Zone

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Erick The Architect

Erick The Architect is a musical artist known for his versatile style of production and unique sound. He is a member of the hip-hop collective Flatbush Zombies and is credited for his contributions to their distinct sound. Erick The Architect has also released solo music, showcasing his creativity and skills as a rapper and producer. more »

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Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Gang, gang (whoa)
Yeah, yeah
Gang, gang
Yeah
Gang, gang

Feel alone, got a mind full of fury with a mouth full of jewelry
I don't flex 'em, I don't stress 'em, all sections gettin' wet up
Loud black man, boy you know we gettin' fed up
Finally, economy is climbin' for me
Hopefully they try to get a sponsor from me
I'm tired, gettin' down every time I'm defeated
Hear the voice in the background, we delete it
Gotta get in line with the bro mane
There's no gettin' 'round when if gon' bang
Instead, we getting high, we get more bank
When I cash out, I'll get the gold chain
All gas with a little tank, bet you can't thank it
I'm countin' Ben Franklins
Money drippin' like paint chips
Formation, and the job I do is thankless
Uber drivin' to the makeshift, vacation
And the grind don't stop, I would never get enough, get enough
Get in line, if you gotta give it up, I been drinkin' white wine with my pinky up
So bougie, but I'll still eat a two-piece low when a nigga off duty
I'm unruly, a boo, not a groupie
Spend my last dollar on the zone like a 2-3, 2-3, 2-3

Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Gang, gang

Loddi, doddi, chill, chill
Something kinda ill, ill
I get by for real, real
I could probably kill Bill
Drive it, drive it, steal, steal
I got time to kill, kill
All my profits, build, build
Sitting on a mill', mill'
Loddi, doddi, chill, chill
Something kinda ill, ill
I get by for real, real
I could probably kill Bill
Drive it, drive it, steal, steal
I got time to kill, kill
All my profits, build, build
Sitting on a mill', mill'

I'm a renegade, syndicate for the money clip, I be runnin' shit
Me and James like the Wonder Twins
Hit the stage with the gun in hip
Hit a lick, hit or miss, let me guess, this'll get, this'll get ignorant
Dividends spend when the mini-van land
First time out on tour, never give a got damn
Always put on my mans
Still pursuing my plans
I'm a student by chance
Still doing my dance, dance
And you niggas not focused
Make you bow down to the sultan
I been approached, bitch, I got 'em open
You see the vultures? You wear the wire like McNulty's, the culprit
Another dosage of real emotion
The Black Moses, money woes make 'em preach to the pulpit
F*ck that, when a nigga ice frozen
'Cause I'd expose him, and they all know it's over

Loddi, doddi, chill, chill
Something kinda ill, ill
I get by for real, real
I could probably kill Bill
Drive it, drive it, steal, steal
I got time to kill, kill
All my profits, build, build
Sitting on a mill', mill'
Loddi, doddi, chill, chill
Something kinda ill, ill
I get by for real, real
I could probably kill Bill
Drive it, drive it, steal, steal
I got time to kill, kill
All my profits, build, build
Sitting on a mill', mill'
Loddi, doddi, chill, chill
Something kinda ill, ill
I get by for real, real
I could probably kill Bill
Drive it, drive it, steal, steal
I got time to kill, kill
All my profits, build, build
Sitting on a mill', mill'

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