Brooklyn’s Walking Dead

The higher high.  The chase.  The glory.  Spilled guts and empty forties everywhere.  Roll that shit, light that shit, smoke it.  These words could serve as the liner notes for a night alongside the Flatbush Zombies, a Brooklyn crew making major waves in the independent NY hip hop scene.  Young, black and gaudy, the Zombies unabashedly abuse narcotics somehow making Curren$y’s weed odes seem low key.  Their Pharcydedness will have you scratching your heads because their love for trees comes second only to their passion for rhyming.  And god damn they can spit.

Their cryptically titled debut D.R.U.G.S (which stands for death and reincarnation under god’s supervision) is one of the most solid releases I’ve wrapped my head around all year.  The drug references come a mile a minute, but the substance is substantial. “Mary, Nothing Above Thee” is a stoner banger with sinister bars from MC’s Meechy Darko and Zombie Juice bolstered by pitch-perfect production from Erick Arc Elliott. Juice opens the ferocious “Laker Paper” with a verse of Three Stacks proportions if Andre had been on a thirty hour acid bender and locked himself in the booth with a 3 foot bong and a shotgun.  It’s turned up, yet mellowed by copious amounts of screwed vocals and hashish clouds.  Meech is an equally polarizing MC.  At times he’s A$AP smooth, borderline endearing, but in a breath he’s barking like Pac on the hood of a squad car.

They’re brash and over the top.  They’re young and dangerous.  They love weed.  Their impressive debut puts them in the running for the “next big thing” prize. My hunch says the Flatbush Zombies don’t give two shits about leading any revivals or representing the new face of anything. They’re too busy crafting imperfect art on their terms whether you push download or not.  Pass the grinder.  They’re smoking like it’s legal.

Grab the tape at


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