Lyrics:

Five, four, three, two, one
In a world full of haters stands a single group, who clearly separate themselves from the rest
These three men scale the ends of the Earth, searching for truth and triumph
Meechy Darko, Zombie Juice, and Erick the Architect
These are the Flatbush Zombies, and this is 3001: A Laced Odyssey

Why I feel like the past is catchin' up to my ass?
Why I feel like the past is catchin' up to my ass?
Why-why I feel like the past is catchin' up to my ass?
Every day, me and Mary Jane
Why I feel like the past is catchin' up to my ass? (Zombie)
Why I feel like the past is catchin' up to my ass?
Why-why I feel like the past is catchin' up to my ass?
Every day, me and Mary Jane

Every day, live it like it's it for me
Black on black, in tap with my roots, this is my ghetto symphony
Shout out to my fam and my homies, we makin' history
Never had a degree, but the streets made me a sicker breed
Every day, another drug, experimental in my mental
Had to tone it down, I c-couldn't see without my liquid, liquid
Had to learn how to balance life, man, I can't fuckin' stand it
Court fees, bought pleas, nigga, where's your fuckin' manners?
How you hate on us, but claim the king of NY?
These niggas ain't fit to be the king, go ask Jadakiss why
I'm in the lobby right now, 1655
I got a bitch like Cardi B, bet that ass sittin' nice
Don't gotta go to South Bronx to get your Furious Five
40 ounce of malt liquor, joint stuffed with the pie
Boss nigga, best nigga, let y'all do decidin'
Hot spitters, dead niggas, man we been through the wire
Somebody call 'em up and let 'em know I been doin' it
You're not that inventive with that colored hair, you're losin' it
On my everyday struggle 'til I get to the top
I study Em, Big, Tech N9ne, 2Pac
Come to my crib unannounced, I got a big T-TEC to pop
I dumped nine missin' bodies in the f-fuckin' car lot
And when I'm mad, I get green like the Hulk
'Til my brain goes 'Pop' and then them thangs go 'Po-po-po-pow'

Introducin' the Jamie Hewlett of rapper music
Influenced by Stanley Kubrick, exclusive for all my hooligans
Oh, we just recruit again, I can take your pre— ('Tige)
Peculiar with my beats like Juice would be with his (Weed)
Apostle like Meechy Darko, watch Ellington DJ (These)
If triple A could record again, Zion may be at (Ease)
I promised Josh I would hold it down, disappear when I (Leave)
Disgruntled with all this Fronto, tell Trav to chill with the (Leaf)
My parents should know I love 'em, my momma locked in the grief
I finished this album up while she barely able to speak
A uncle to everyone, I put that on my future (Niece)
The sooner you see the picture, you defecate on be— ('Lief)
Livin' peaceful with keys, messiah with ganja trees
My confidence out the roof, and that done help me believe
Inglorious with them keys, no snortin', I can't agree
Livin' life like a king and that's somethin' I'd rather be, nigga

Silence as them semis shootin' sideways at your siblings
Excuse me for the sibilance, beginners, study and listen
My only mission is to burn in Hell and not in prison
That's why I'm spittin' shit that make Jesus question religion
This fan told me her parents said I sound like the Devil
To me I sound like a poor black kid from the ghetto
Hello, my health declining, I'm losin' my mind, my life's The Shining
Don't know why I love violence, the sight of blood is so exciting
Grip the pistol, coke off a nipple
My brain fried, my memory sizzled, my hood is vicious, don't get it twisted
They hog tied my grandmama and whipped my grandpa with pistols
That's a fact, OG reefer hash wax
Motherfuck your platinum plaque, snakes eat rats
My cellie keep ringin', ringin', think they got my phone tapped
Acid trips like activists on Actavis, never pacifist
Pass the spliff, immaculate, this is the return of Count Rackula
Nothin' scare me, I think my real mother is Bloody Mary
I met Virgin Mary and popped her cherry
My vision exquisite, I see you clearly
I'm a mix, Manson's Greatest Hits with a hint of 2Pacalypse
Feed my dog gunpowder, carve crucifix on hollow-tips
I do not exist
All this weed, why I need a therapist?
Bitch, I'm a mix, Manson's Greatest Hits with a hint of 2Pacalypse
Feed my dog gunpowder, carve crucifix on hollow-tips
I do not exist
All this weed, why I need a therapist?

Why I feel like the past is catchin' up to my ass?
Why I feel like the past is catchin' up to my ass?
Why-why I feel like the past is catchin' up to my ass?
Every day, me and Mary Jane