Fes Taylor - Graveyard Shift Pt. 2
[Intro: Fes Taylor]
Yeah, Real Deal Gil, it's part 2
Deck, what's good, baby?
L.I.S., Tuff', thought it was serious last week
It's Fes Taylor, uh-huh, uh-huh, Fes Taylor
[Fes Taylor]
Staten Island, these other dudes, fronting like they coming through
Catch 'em at the rendevous, put holes in your Armani suit
For a couple mil', couple things that I'll probably do
Snuff you out, shot at you, puncture in your body too
Smooth like how Gotti move, but I wolves that'll aim at you
Brain splat you, show you what the shotty do
Profes, never been associated with coat checks
You cootie, you tutti frutti, raps is booty
Listen, these cash looney, got pistols to prove it to me
You run around, saying you wanna kill me, then shoot it through me
I'll be posted up, shoot in the air, like I'm suppose to duck
Get at me, you lames can't get close enough
First family, my warriors, be security
Yeah, a lot of rappers dope, ain't nobody pure as me
I don't think you hearing me, most of these rappers fronting
Like they gangsta, see me at a show, they be fearing me
Wolf Pack, Shaolin, look how we took it back
Finally got a foot in rap, Dwight Gooden up to bat
Hit you til you guaranteed, son, yo this'll move you
Out of state got coke in the big Isuzu
Look how these chickens use you, when you getting buku
Dollars from blocks, my mind draw on men, I'm cookoo
I was with a crew too, '92 since
Militant mistress, you still in the business
[Inspectah Deck]
It's like World War 4 in the field, daily ordeal
Wolf Pack digging claws in your meal
Ducking blue coats, tossin' the steel, it's all real
In my lifetime of crime, I never talked or squeal
And I move with the coldest around, I be holding my ground
And I'mma hold it til I'm thrown in the ground
So I'm blowing rounds and I'm known to carry six
New Jacks in the City get Burned like Larry Fish
Daddy rich chick magnet, I hand you a fix
Spit bricks on the mix and make the avenue flip
Carry grips on the regular, berettas and fifths
Jumping out navy whips, watch ya neck and ya wrists
No question I be reppin' my click, the specialist
From the youngings to the O.G.'s checking for this
Stay hard on the graveyard shift, cigar split
Spark quick, when the shit jump off you're heartless
This is S.I.N.Y., Killa Killa Hill
10304, home to gorillas in the field
[Outro: Fes Taylor]
Yeah, S.T., M&M, Drama King, Kay Slay
Two 4 War, Undadogz, Loose Linx, House Gang
Staten Island, yeah, my son Rock, my son Sic, yea
What up, Fuzzy Vasquells
Yeah, Real Deal Gil, it's part 2
Deck, what's good, baby?
L.I.S., Tuff', thought it was serious last week
It's Fes Taylor, uh-huh, uh-huh, Fes Taylor
[Fes Taylor]
Staten Island, these other dudes, fronting like they coming through
Catch 'em at the rendevous, put holes in your Armani suit
For a couple mil', couple things that I'll probably do
Snuff you out, shot at you, puncture in your body too
Smooth like how Gotti move, but I wolves that'll aim at you
Brain splat you, show you what the shotty do
Profes, never been associated with coat checks
You cootie, you tutti frutti, raps is booty
Listen, these cash looney, got pistols to prove it to me
You run around, saying you wanna kill me, then shoot it through me
I'll be posted up, shoot in the air, like I'm suppose to duck
Get at me, you lames can't get close enough
First family, my warriors, be security
Yeah, a lot of rappers dope, ain't nobody pure as me
I don't think you hearing me, most of these rappers fronting
Like they gangsta, see me at a show, they be fearing me
Wolf Pack, Shaolin, look how we took it back
Finally got a foot in rap, Dwight Gooden up to bat
Hit you til you guaranteed, son, yo this'll move you
Out of state got coke in the big Isuzu
Look how these chickens use you, when you getting buku
Dollars from blocks, my mind draw on men, I'm cookoo
I was with a crew too, '92 since
Militant mistress, you still in the business
[Inspectah Deck]
It's like World War 4 in the field, daily ordeal
Wolf Pack digging claws in your meal
Ducking blue coats, tossin' the steel, it's all real
In my lifetime of crime, I never talked or squeal
And I move with the coldest around, I be holding my ground
And I'mma hold it til I'm thrown in the ground
So I'm blowing rounds and I'm known to carry six
New Jacks in the City get Burned like Larry Fish
Daddy rich chick magnet, I hand you a fix
Spit bricks on the mix and make the avenue flip
Carry grips on the regular, berettas and fifths
Jumping out navy whips, watch ya neck and ya wrists
No question I be reppin' my click, the specialist
From the youngings to the O.G.'s checking for this
Stay hard on the graveyard shift, cigar split
Spark quick, when the shit jump off you're heartless
This is S.I.N.Y., Killa Killa Hill
10304, home to gorillas in the field
[Outro: Fes Taylor]
Yeah, S.T., M&M, Drama King, Kay Slay
Two 4 War, Undadogz, Loose Linx, House Gang
Staten Island, yeah, my son Rock, my son Sic, yea
What up, Fuzzy Vasquells
Top songs by Fes Taylor
What do you think about this song?