Scorey
Grave Digger
[Intro: ShoeBox Baby]
Huh? What? C'mon (Ayy what's good Trou?)
Yeah, slatt, slatt, it's Box
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh
C'mon (Boom, boom, boom)
Yeah, slatt (It's Box)

[Chorus: Scorey & ShoeBox Baby]
Uh, I be with some steppers, grave diggers, made n***as, uh (Bro dig his grave)
Right now I'm with shh— can't say his name, he slayed n***as (Can't say his name)
Ask the opps , why we call big bro "Perfect-Aim", n***a
Go ask they block why they be feeling all this pain in 'em, uh (All his pain)
Pull up and dump in the rain, and I post up wit' the same n***as, uh (Ah, grah, grah)
Since we got money and fame, don't give a fuck, it ain't change n***as, uh (N***as all the same)
We got the lo', we stayed, think with his dick, now his brain missin' (His dick, now his brain)
He went and bought him a chain, but we still see the lame in him (Uh, uh, it's Box)

[Verse 1: ShoeBox Baby]
I know COVID passed, but we still in the trenches, wearin' COVID masks (Mask)
They opps be callin' my phone (Damn), talkin' 'bout they slidin' I'm gon' show they ass (Slatt, slatt)
Headshot, face shot (What?), damn, his block over man (Gone)
He on IG lackin', talkin' 'bout bodies (Uh-huh), they gon' post his ass (Real, real)
Police-shit, he got paperwork (Uh-huh), you better show that shit (Better thow that)
She wanna be wifey, if you like me, let my homie hit (No, no, no)
I bought bro'nem drugs (Uh-huh), guns, clothes, they don't owe me shit (What? What? It's Box)
If we in the club and you got a pole, you better blow that bitch (Bow, bow, bow)
I'on like to talk at all 'cause it ain't nothing to talk about
We not from ****, if you from there, then fuck it, chalk 'em down
You ever caught an opp and let off shots, but you ain't walk 'em down?
Lil' bro caught a body, packed his bag, we goin' out of town
[Chorus: Scorey]
Uh, I be with some steppers, grave diggers, made n***as, uh (Bro dig his grave)
Right now I'm with shh— can't say his name, he slayed n***as (Can't say his name)
Ask the opps , why we call big bro "Perfect-Aim", n***a
Go ask they block like why they be feeling all this pain in 'em, uh (All his pain)
Pull up and dump in the rain, and I post up wit' the same n***as, uh (Ah, grah, grah)
Since we got money and fame, don't give a fuck, it ain't change n***as, uh (N***as all the same)
We got the lo', we stayed, think with his dick, now his brain missin' (His dick, now his brain)
He went and bought him a chain, but we still see the lame in him
(That n***a lame)

[Verse 2: Scorey]
Gave 'em steppers, a green light, then he seein' pipes
Man that lil' n***a sleep tight (Bah)
.23 wit' a beam right, and it feel nice even though that my jeans tight (Though my jeans tight)
Hit his block wit' them [?], not no school n***a, I'm a stay in the field type (Stay in the field type)
Pull up hit him and that's steel type
It's a few n***as that's gon' know what that feel like (Bitch)
Uh, he gon' hit the floor when that flrr go off (Flrr-flrr)
Score' be all red so just watch where you walk (Uh)
Mentionin' Scorey, they gon' put him truck (Gon' put him in truck)
You goin' to war and that shit gon' cuff (That shit gon' cuff)
I don't got time to be cuffin' no whores, that shit be so borin' when they wan' to talk (Just want to talk)
He just be telling you all of them stories of us, he a corn, that lil' n***a soft (What?)
He got his shit opened up like a door, they hit 'em wit' force, they ain't even knock (They ain't even knock)
I know a n***a got hit from up close, they crazy part is they ain't even walk (They ain't even–)
Grimey lil' bitch, she gon' give us the lo' and she don't even care about doin' no cops (Doin' no cops)
Takedown-gang we just got us a Glock (Brrah)
Chase down-aim, he got hit in his top (Brrt, brrt)
[Chorus: Scorey]
Uh, I be with some steppers, grave diggers, made n***as, uh (Bro dig his grave)
Right now I'm with shh— can't say his name, he slayed n***as (Can't say his name)
Ask the opps , why we call big bro "Perfect-Aim," n***a
Go ask they block why they be feeling all this pain in 'em, uh (All his pain)
Pull up and dump in the rain, and I post up wit' the same n***as, uh (Ah, grah, grah)
Since we got money and fame, don't give a fuck, it ain't change n***as, uh (N***as all the same)
We got the lo', we stayed, think with his dick, now his brain missin' (His dick, now his brain)
He went and bought him a chain, but we still see the lame in him
(That n***a lame)