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Living In A Zoo Remix Video (MV)






Enemy Public - Living In A Zoo Remix Lyrics




Skills to kill

And fill a hole we roll deep

Wit a frown that's down

Low in the meddle of jeep beats

So I'm makin a point

Not stickin butts or blunts

But the Terminator X

And the rhythm he cuts

Figure this bigger brother

Gonna trigger the track

No I ain't country

And my name ain't Zack

Step the f*ck back

Take a look at the racks

My world is a ghetto full of tapes and wax

CD's they only double the tax

And makin money money

New York city to lax

Tell the suckers suckers

Never ever relax

I'm kickin in cold facts so true

It feels like I'm livin in a zoo



Sayin I'm down like psycho

Wheres my rifle? Right though

I ain't Michael, yo

I ain't sittin on the dock of the bay

Wastin time in a crime wit a nine

Rather find another brutal rhyme

It's us verses, I put it all in verses

If the sound reverses

I pump it up wit curses

F*ck sittin in the back of the bus

But don't front what we lack

We got it loaded in a back pack

See they can do it to a man

But wit men suckers semi

Think that shit before they come again

No science to the wild senile

Slackin cause he packin like a

Runaway child yeah

Would I ever try to sever, hell no

Never would work if the

Rhyme wasn't clever

Wild in an isle

Stackin high from the floor tile

Back in the rack, where the rap never seen a

What I gonna wanna do...

Feels like I'm livin in a zoo



I don't know where I'm at

Heres a track

I try to duck duck

Those 3 bullets in the back

Top 40

Ignore me

Sooooo

I him em in the hood

Until it feel good



But I'm all right though

I wanna fight crazy dirty



It's not a matter of skills

But a battle of wills

Pow the stick up go the quicker the picker up

Trigga eenie meanie



Wit the gatt that so fat

Brrap bap bap cop dilla in a 16 wheeler

They call me over the phone

Che-che-checkin me out

Takin my time

To find a brother droppin dime

Once again it's on

In the paint, and I ain't givin up

No props to the game

And it stops in the name of the hip hop

Reign and the pain got me goin

Goddamn wont they even pull a

Bullet on a pop jam
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Skills to kill

And fill a hole we roll deep

Wit a frown that's down

Low in the meddle of jeep beats

So I'm makin a point

Not stickin butts or blunts

But the Terminator X

And the rhythm he cuts

Figure this bigger brother

Gonna trigger the track

No I ain't country

And my name ain't Zack

Step the f*ck back

Take a look at the racks

My world is a ghetto full of tapes and wax

CD's they only double the tax

And makin money money

New York city to lax

Tell the suckers suckers

Never ever relax

I'm kickin in cold facts so true

It feels like I'm livin in a zoo



Sayin I'm down like psycho

Wheres my rifle? Right though

I ain't Michael, yo

I ain't sittin on the dock of the bay

Wastin time in a crime wit a nine

Rather find another brutal rhyme

It's us verses, I put it all in verses

If the sound reverses

I pump it up wit curses

F*ck sittin in the back of the bus

But don't front what we lack

We got it loaded in a back pack

See they can do it to a man

But wit men suckers semi

Think that shit before they come again

No science to the wild senile

Slackin cause he packin like a

Runaway child yeah

Would I ever try to sever, hell no

Never would work if the

Rhyme wasn't clever

Wild in an isle

Stackin high from the floor tile

Back in the rack, where the rap never seen a

What I gonna wanna do...

Feels like I'm livin in a zoo



I don't know where I'm at

Heres a track

I try to duck duck

Those 3 bullets in the back

Top 40

Ignore me

Sooooo

I him em in the hood

Until it feel good



But I'm all right though

I wanna fight crazy dirty



It's not a matter of skills

But a battle of wills

Pow the stick up go the quicker the picker up

Trigga eenie meanie



Wit the gatt that so fat

Brrap bap bap cop dilla in a 16 wheeler

They call me over the phone

Che-che-checkin me out

Takin my time

To find a brother droppin dime

Once again it's on

In the paint, and I ain't givin up

No props to the game

And it stops in the name of the hip hop

Reign and the pain got me goin

Goddamn wont they even pull a

Bullet on a pop jam
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: JAMES BOXLEY III, GEORGE CLINTON, WILLIAM BOOTSY COLLINS, CARL DEHANEY, CARLTON RIDENHOUR, GARY RINALDO, GARRY SHIDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, A SIDE MUSIC LLC D/B/A MODERN WORKS MUSIC PUBLISHING

Back to: Enemy Public

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