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Lyrics
[Intro]
Whole floor tight.
Forklifts hum like they gaggin’ on bullshit.
Schedule flash—
snake breath behind safety colors.
⸻
[Verse 1]
Clock in—
I smell a lie before you speak.
Sideways slither,
coward energy weak.
Mouth full of venom,
spine full of air,
Rumors float heavy
like piss in the air.
Backstabbing fuck
with a smile you ain’t earn,
Talk shit on the break,
run when tables turn.
Instigator-ass bitch,
spark in a bone-dry dock,
Turn a whisper to chaos,
then vanish when it pop.
Point fingers, wash hands,
act holy and blessed,
But the scanner scream foul
every time you get checked.
“That ain’t what I said,”
“I just heard,” same trash—
Lyin’-ass rat
with a forked-ass mask.
⸻
[Hook]
Warehouse weasel,
bitch-made rat.
Run your mouth all shift,
never carry shit back.
Warehouse weasel,
lights don’t lie.
Whole floor clocked you—
just wait on time.
⸻
[Verse 2]
Steel toes stomp
but your spine gelatin,
Every shift you invent drama
’cause you empty as shit.
Paper-cut snitch,
office-whisper hoe,
Tryna climb off lies
with a ladder broke.
Good workers get fucked
so you look legit,
But when numbers go south
you don’t own shit.
Throw stones then hide hands,
pray nobody rewind,
But patterns keep receipts,
they just bide time.
Big mouth on the dock,
mute in the room,
All that tough-guy shit
evaporate—poof.
Soul on clearance rack,
integrity gone,
Expired-ass morals
still punchin’ the clock.
⸻
[Verse 3 – Black Lotus Viper]
I don’t scream—I dissect,
slow bleed, no rush,
Every move you make
logged, labeled, crushed.
You feed off friction,
sell fear like a pimp,
But parasites panic
when the host ain’t limp.
You climb on backs,
then cry when they snap,
Blame the fall on luck
instead of your act.
I don’t argue with rats,
I let evidence speak,
Cameras don’t blink,
they remember weeks.
When the lights hit white,
ain’t no shadow to slide,
Just a slimy-ass snake
with nowhere to hide.
Second Shift Samurai—
silence stay violent.
We don’t bark threats.
We outlast tyrants.
⸻
[Hook – Final]
Warehouse weasel,
fake-ass grin.
Smile full of lies—
numbers cave in.
Warehouse weasel,
end of your plot.
Truth don’t rush,
but it rot you on spot.
⸻
[Outro]
Keep stirrin’ that pot
’til the footage play back.
Lotus bloom in the dark—
that’s discipline, not slack.
Snakes hate daylight.
That’s warehouse law
Details
GeneratedDec 14, 2025
Duration2:59
LanguageEnglish
Style
Dark East Coast hip-hop 86 BPM minimal drums heavy bass cold boom bap cinematic diss female venom
Credits
Prompt by
MIG1274
MIG1274ModelAria v5
