Red leatha suit; Black cowboy boots; Skiipin and dancing

my way through crooks/ Its the midnight hour and they

aint no tellin what evil demons are dwellin; Underneath

this concrete surface dat i stand trembling, Freaks of

da night come out yelling/ Oh yeah, Graveyard Shift is

tha time and place to be horrified and embraced by

gouls dat give chase; Zombies, monsters, and red lobsters

are a mix of disasters if you talking about 12am after/

Dogs bark laughter in the Shift dat i capture in an essence

of a blessing rapture/ Yes, Grave Yard Shifts another

demention where my words start expressing human

qualities as you pay attention/ I'm da t.v and da salad

with no thousand islands dressing/ Bitter taste of

my image on point like a scrimage line down your

spine; Feeling da cortex vibrate as it grinds the nervs

to send messages to da mind/ The thought of dark

lights spark on da leftside of my cerbral shrine/ It

is the essence of my prime to step in the fire dat

engulfs my desire to be da son of the night; No

way out for the feind abandoned on a flight/

Heading for a journey dat ends shining early; take a bite;

Crime is da same, emotional strain of the lonely/ Some

one is there to hold me;tightly,but not so highly accepted

when your life is hectec; Feeling abused and neglected

has affected generations of bulbs being defused, never

electric/ I now choose da darkside hearing bloody cries,

and drive byes/ No end to this trend dat got it going on

like chain reaction; causing actions to speak for a

moments fraction/ Kant anyone stop all da evil deeds

dat men wit no hearts tend reach?/ Endless portrayal

of dreams drowned and derailed/ Krisskass shiftting

da graveyard to a start/ This is da time where rymes

get to deep, sweet, and to addictive to even sleep/

The sound of your work is the most important criticism

in this world of treason with no friends, just foes; This

i unfold to be told in my scroll; Ticking away control

since i am by myself with no one to tell what to do/ I

listen to some advice with patience and good intetions

to work out my interpretations of my Graveyard Styles;Late

night is my call of the wild; Little viles, carved tiles and

da smell of Brimstone hell on da aisles of many platforms;

i plan to cultivate corn as i whatch da culture of this

hip hop tribe transform into a whole nation born to

a proclamation dat speaks for its amazing force to

hold tha torch/ The holders of da light is what we

are; set apart all beefs and greedy sneaks; this

new order in da world will neva sleep/ The Children

of da night are diggin it so tight./ Graveyard Shift

begins to uplift your councious to another perspective;

Prime derective of da 6 senses/ Smell, to hear, and see

no fear; Touch and taste da cruel non fiction is clear

to use number six; Telepathy; mind supremacy to

find out da secrets; Graveyard Shift home for da

enlightend and sleepless; / Livin in a terretory to

be a witness of this empire's sickness; / Tools

they use to make your attention connect with

thier tensions are present; everywhere you dare

to stare, is da hypnotic device; Lice all over your

scalp; So think twice when walking in da day time./

Strange eyes are looking; From windows to skyscrappers,

the plan is cooking; Be aware of this stare when you

think its calm, don't be alarmed to be harmed; Escape

from L.a when da sun goes down';darkness bound; Da

only way to reach your true meaning is to stop dreaming;

This is DA Graveyard Shift..... Reality check in pitch black

view; Think: Who made who....