Blood on My Chucks

[Verse 1: Bukshot]
I think they get it now (now)
What they fucking with (with)
I can smell they fear (fear)
Ain't that something bitch
I'm the alien reaper like Sigourney Weaver
Beat the drum of death (death), street sweeper (street sweeper)
Ain't got nothing on me, I came back and brought my cronies
Helter Skelter shit (shit), you ain't scared then show me
Meet my dead homie, Mr. Grey and R.O.C
Blood dripping off my Chucks, ain't no make-believe
Jason mask, but you already know that
You ain't got to ask Mob and Ninjas that's a cold fact
Next door neighbors comе up missing in your cul-de-sac (sac)
That's an imprint to killers, Zodiac

[Chorus: Mr. Grey & The R.O.C.]
Blood on my chucks
Shotgun offs
I don't give a fuck
Blood on my chucks
Blocka blocka
Artillеry shocker
Blocka blocka
Die motherfucker
Blood in my cup
Drink it all up
Going fucking nuts
Blood on my chucks
Blocka blocka
Artillery shocker
Blocka blocka
Die motherfucker

[Verse 2: The R.O.C.]
Blood's on my nunchucks
Swing for your head what
Stomp you with my kicks bruh
What's the brand black leather Chucks
Roll with the homies our purpose to destroy
All competition don't exist I'll deploy
Missiles at your whole camp (camp)
Bite 'em like we all vamp (vamp)
Pires our desires solve, our hunger's got us so amped (amped)
The crew is so ghoulish, move cause we foolish
Live in the ruins where your mind will go through it
Insane, yes we are (are)
Body's in abbatoir (toir)
Display it in the park (park) where the dead ones haunt (haunt)
Beat is pumping fast, better scram before we hit you in yo dome with this chuck
Then wipe the blood from my kicks bitch

[Chorus: Mr. Grey & The R.O.C.]
Blood on my chucks
Shotgun offs
I don't give a fuck
Blood on my chucks
Blocka blocka
Artillery shocker
Blocka blocka
Die motherfucker
Blood in my cup
Drink it all up
Going fucking nuts
Blood on my chucks
Blocka blocka
Artillery shocker
Blocka blocka
Die motherfucker

[Verse 3: Blaze Ya Dead Homie]
I got yo blood on my Chucks and yo forehead looking like cold cuts
Pistol-whippin’ till yo skull blow up
Bitch you getting no love
Drag yo body face down through the road (road)
It stumbled till there's scuff marks on the soles (yeah)
Gotta let 'em know so I keep a case loaded ready and set to blast (blast)
With the aim of first class (ha)
Getting the last laugh
Whip the knife out, happens so fast
When I stab and I slash, my chucks in blood I leave a path
All pro blueprints, all star shoeprints
All up over your clothes, see it was foolish (yeah)
To try to test a dead man who ain't got shit to lose (nope)
And quick to get some blood on his shoes and make the news (now)

[Chorus: Mr. Grey & The R.O.C.]
Blood on my chucks
Shotgun offs
I don't give a fuck
Blood on my chucks
Blocka blocka
Artillery shocker
Blocka blocka
Die motherfucker
Blood in my cup
Drink it all up
Going fucking nuts
Blood on my chucks
Blocka blocka
Artillery shocker
Blocka blocka
Die motherfucker