Big Fern

Yeah… Night shift… Forks up… Big Fern rollin’… [Hook – smooth, chantable] My name Big Fern, yeah I move that weight, Twelve hour grind, still feelin’ great. Diesel in the air, warehouse full of smoke, Steel toes down — I ain’t no joke. Slow ride, slide, forks lift high, Pallets stacked tall to the ceiling sky. Clock don’t stop but I don’t break, Night shift king — make the whole ground shake. [Verse 1 – laid back, gritty] Warehouse lights flicker like a lowrider show, Concrete jungle, watch the sparks glow. Steel on steel when the forks go slide, One wrong move — somebody’s pride. Safety lady watchin’ from across the floor, Smilin’ when I back that rig through the dock door. Radio crackle, boss man stressed, But I run this yard like the wild wild west. Hydraulics hiss when I lift that stack, Big Fern rollin’ — never look back. Pallet jack boys wanna talk that mess, But they clock out tired, I clock out blessed. [Hook – harder this time] My name Big Fern, yeah I move that weight, Twelve hour grind, still feelin’ great. Diesel in the air, warehouse full of smoke, Steel toes down — I ain’t no joke. Slow ride, slide, forks lift high, Pallets stacked tall to the ceiling sky. Clock don’t stop but I don’t break, Night shift king — make the whole ground shake. [Verse 2 – darker tone] Graveyard shift, moon outside, Only real ones on this side. Gloves blacked out, sweat on my brow, Talkin’ big numbers but I’m silent now. Chain clank sound like a beat in the dark, Every backup beep leave a permanent mark. Load so heavy but my hands stay steady, If it need movin’ — Big Fern ready. OSHA posters on the wall look faded, Hard hat life, no time wasted. I don’t flex gold, I flex control, Four forks liftin’ a thousand souls. [Bridge – slowed, echo effect] Smoke in the rafters… Time move slow… Midnight rider… Forks down low… You hear that engine hum? That’s Fern comin’ through… [Final Hook – gang vocals feel] Big Fern! (Big Fern!) Move that weight! (Move that weight!) Night shift! (Night shift!) Never late! (Never late!) Slow ride, slide, forks lift high, Concrete throne under warehouse sky. When the sun come up and the shift done turn — Y’all clock out tired… I clock out Fern.