[Verse 1: Denzel Curry] This is dedicated To the memoir of my niggas, them Most of them victimized because the daily grind Crackers be bamming and sending them Down to the county Face down on the pavement Blackland, Carol City My visual it's the same shit Still the same little niggas going to the candy lady 25 for that frozen cup Crackers be thinking they trapping Just post in the Charger until they are ready to jump Jump out the jumper, no pulling your gun out You better be sprinting the other way Throw out the fire, get caught by the nine Run through alley ways all in Cherry Bay It's real in the field, either kill or be killed Like BG so they got a grip on the tec Took my nigga, Chynaman, took my nigga, PJ And Trayvon, hot damn, who next on a white tee? Born and raised on the Zone 3 Blackland right by the 199 Pull out the stick if you 'bout that life Seen niggas from the Four be toting that iron Run down, catch a nigga by sundown Or downtown when he think the shit is serene Got that boy when they shot that boy Then they put him in the trash when they slide by the Beanz Swerve, soon as I peel off the curve Burn the evidence then a nigga hide Take 27? Nah nigga, fuck that Let's take that chance on the I-95 Bumping that sickest shit with the vomit spit And a 666 with a twist and twirl If you survive homicide drive-by They'll leave you with nubs like the Powerpuff Girls I get so high, stay so high Until I see the face of God Welcome to South Florida Let that AK rip on the whole damn squad Bitch
[Hook] Bitch, I'm from that Zone Three, Zone Three Zone Three, Zone Three Zone Three, Zone Three That Blackland, CC That Zone Three, Zone Three Zone Three, Zone Three Zone Three, Zone Three That Blackland, CC That Zone Three, Zone Three Zone Three, Zone Three Zone Three, Zone Three That Blackland, CC That Zone Three, Zone Three Zone Three, Zone Three Zone Three, Zone Three That Blackland, CC, bitch