Graveyard Shift

Lyrics

[Intro: Bukshot] The Graveyard Shift, Louisville and Jay City together on this bitch. Bukshot, N-Do, O.D., Gangsta Blac, Trig, Big Shawn, with them 812 Soulja'z, Ruff Side, Redrum, we taking this shit over [Verse 1: Bukshot] Bukshot the player hater, executer so fuck yo crew Down with them thugs up across the bridge where the area code is 8-1-2 Straight up anybody killer, strapping the chopper that goes bang Making sure outside is hangin', it's a Midwest thing So you best done give respect up in this city I call mine 'Cause there won't be no hesitation to put hot lead where the sun don't shine A frown up on my mug, prepare to lick a chaser from a chipe 'Cause I'm the one who blew 1-8-7 in yo pager [Verse 2: ???] Tonight is midnight, dressed in all black Me and Buk and my cousin mobbin' Macklemore busting caps out the Lac Throughout the Midwest, spitting on the concrete showing (fuck you nigga) no respect After dumping on yo set, hit 75 West, through the bridge Throw the guns over the rail, and to 812 Both of the bodies come up stained and the detector I smell Ain't this something to creep to? Me and Bukshot blasting No questions asking (kablow), your life is not lasting [Verse 3: N-Do] Now it's time to get wicked with Bukshot, N-Do, N-O-T Coming straight to you like psycho, one psycho, two psycho, three It's time I bleed up a storm, make it rain till you strain Shooting caine up your veins till it's busting out your brain It's a game that I likes to play, I'll torture, full shots in a minute Got dead bodies in my cell like it's a motherfucking clinic It's the scene that I'm in, but it's fucked so I continue Eating Gushers, blood for sauce while I'm dipping in yo fingers [Verse 4: ???] Got my Mossberg letting off buckshots Fuck yo Glocks, we mobbing in droptops Serving on the West End blocks, blazing big weed Keyed off the endoja Sixes in the chamber, shot in the face so no one names ya The California park hood where we smoked, plus we Locced past midnight Blunts in the wind like AirMike They're jealous, got my finger on the trigger while these niggas work the late shift I'm gon' be the grave digger [Verse 5: ???] I come through with two thangs smoking, leaving yo chest wide open from the smoke Hitting yo set, leaving yo chest wet, boy this G shit ain't no joke I mob on triple golds and folds Desert Eagle cocked and ready to unload I fold yo whole clique quick Nigga in the Berg that's how it goes From LiveLeak caught where the G niggas blast With the MAC, line these then I crack yo masks I turn these streets into a bloodbath They find you niggas ripped in half Busting with my nigga Bukshot in that 6-4 on three shoes I bust that shit that'll rip yo heart out nigga and death has just chose you [Verse 6: ???] Creeping up out of the cut With a nine, pocket full of stone 8-1-2 Jay City boys roam Fuck around get yo head blown off By the fucking sawed off (Boom boom) Pumping, dumping shells up in yo chest Motherfucker straight coming for the Midwest Desert nugs get fucked up, ripping up all yo bloody guts Trying to get that pad of cash Straight put you on yo ass Grab the Freddy mask, blast like I told y'all down, I don't fuck a task Bitches keep snitching but I keep hitting that eleven to seven shift shit, a player all about his grit bitch [Verse 7: ???] (What you about boy? You got that money?) I be gone when the hot ones blow Watch that, now bitch lick a brick You'll self-impale for competition as I rip through your set and take yo back out with these niggas from the Ville Niggas will kill just for the fuck of it Dump slugs into yo grill, keep shit real, jump in the bucket bitch Till they itching and fucking lie (Yeah) Tonight'll be the night you die Leave that nigga safe but the 8-1-deuce, yeah nigga we keep it tight What that set be like? You brag or not nigga I'll bring a gun Leaving bodies numb from the .45 Tommy gun [Verse 8: Bake] Here we are, four-door cars, them players done crossed the river From Indiana, 8-1-2, now watch how we deliver Ambitions for riding, buckshots from all the mileage Time to take the life from those who chose (haha) just all for static Never been no punk (never been no punk), no mini pump Just shit in yo fucking chest Homicide them gypsies plus I rank amongst the very best That nigga Bake (That nigga Bake) Defamed here, 1-86 And much demolition ripping quick, bring fools down to boots [Verse 9: ???] Round up and niggas I hope they say they last Praying sick for the Graveyard Shift player No fearing for my hair shit, so lay it down Face-to-face with face of death, take a shit Illegal business bust and shooting shit down Flying through the city, no fucking pity for you hoes Ain't no love for you bitches, for them murder shooters spitting, bullet hoes (Bullet holes) Of bullet hoes (bullet holes), of bullet holes, of bullet holes (Nigga, nigga, nigga) [Verse 10: Short Capone] Coming straight out of eight where you hustle to keep that paper proper Pack a Glock on yo person, don't hesitate to pop 'em Watching my back for coppers, they scoping and I can't seem to shake 'em Every time I step on the block I.S.P. trying to chase me If they be hulking and falling tryna interfere with this cheddar cheese Rolling, but the fools don't have a clue who's holding the quarter keys Preaching the shadows after hours, nigga find me deep in the grind It's a drop, no doubt, Short Capone I gots to get mine [Verse 11: ???] Now let's kill it from the back on the real though Packing my steel for the kill Can you feel when I grab yo shit I'm a dealer, real I got appeal All about my skrillers, don't take no bullshit from marksmen Just pop a slug in yo ass when I blast, and I'll catch y'all quick in the dark Leaving sparks in your hood, it ain't good, I be serving you heat Fuck the police, serving heat for the Gs, put no fear in me Backing me, it's 812 Soulja'z gone off that doja (812, 812) Mutter from, don't roll us, on this Graveyard Shift [Verse 12: ???] Buckshot till the day I fall, watch me and niggas ball (Watch us ball nigga) Ain't no time for stalling, niggas quick to make that murder call I'm looking at a black hearse filled with death and misery If five niggas show me love then twenty wanna kill me Fill me with caps, bust back, I ain't no punk nigga Don't be ducking behind yo car, I'm shooting straight through yo trunk (Shooting straight through yo mu'fucking trunk) And1's no fun, just a lot of yellow tape My addicts dig, creep to spit, pussy niggas get wrecked [Verse 13: ???] Give it to me nigga then be chopping to ride Reside in that bloody I, Ind-I-A-N, they see the bloody killer where it's do or die Don't sleep on that Ville, we are dope dealers and killers My niggas come through with that realer, with triggers and heaters that's big Tri-county air-E-D My interest-ings like Stephen King It's a quarter to three, let's bury young breathing on these Ds in the trees I'll run yo celly when that job's complete Locc to the brain riding shotgun with that reaper in the front seat [Verse 14: ???] Representing the season of the sickness, killing up snitches, leaving no witness Murder roughly, fled, got away clean with this Showing no love to them nigga that show no love back 'Cause you wasn't the nigga that help a nigga move them packs I keep on mobbin' lodging, but it's about to change I'm the one to blame when you feel that pain, so let it rain Sending hot ones to your brain and watching my studs lift After twelve o'clock working that motherfucking Graveyard Shift [Verse 15: ???] It's that one motherfucker to the left, never skipping Got the tea right by my eye, fuck yo set 'cause I'm tripping Always flaming and doing dirt You can never win Five faces in my hand from the streets, unleashing it Kill kill, fuck yo chill 'cause I bangs with the red Kill kill, keep it real, leave a slug up in yo head Rolling over your set, king and I'm taking his crown I throws it down (down), I throws it down, I throws it down [Verse 16: ???] I keeps my head up, never let up (Never) Wet up any nigga talking shit (Talk shit) Wanna cross my partners, my path, you must have a death wish bitch (Niggas have a death wish) Busting on that Graveyard Shift, motherfuckers acting scheiße But our bars are none, Jay City niggas live (812) and die by they chife Every day all day sin in the crib, bring it down in the zones Then as soon as Twizzos come (Whoop whoop) Scatter like roaches when the light's on And then we hold up, wait about a minute Let them in, just leave, and we right back to business [Verse 17: Bukshot] I'm riding dirty, fiends are clucking Rollers are creeping, so I'm ducking Back to the cabin, neighbors are looking in my window to see what I'm cooking, cooking I be like "Dee, these FEDs are watching me" A.T.F. is on the prowl trying to get them my recipe So I'm busting out this back door, got my gun in my hand This Midwest Destroyer's about to make a stand No bulletproof vest, just this tattoo on my chest Mom and dad I'm coming to see ya if they lay me down to rest I see you're closing in, they ready to peel my cap But it's the Graveyard shift (you bitches) welcome to my trap Y'all been praying for my downfall but the prey is on you Sixteen killers on this song, your nightmares have come true You dick-suckers got me started, lets finish the game And if I fall tonight (tonight) remember my name and let all my 8 Soulja'z ride for me Bury me in all red and say I died a G