| When the sun goes down
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| The monsters rise with a nine and a bally for disguise
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| With an evil look in their eyes and they wanna take lives and, rape wives
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| This place it ain’t nice, get ate like peas and rice for your ice
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| And slice of a knife through the white of your eye
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| Not a monster cause you shot white from your ride
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| I’ve been spitting bars since I was watching Tales From The Crypt on Nick of a
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| night
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| We used to nick of a night but now I just stick to the rhymes
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| Or some of the mandem hit road shot O’s, flow tips of a night
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| Tales From The Crypt so prepare for your burial
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| Face down, body rotten left in the mud
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| Fuck radio so pull down your aerial
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| Banging my CD, slice when I meet me
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| I’m a ghost from the past so cross that you can never open my arms
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| And my location is over in Narm and I’m resting in peace so I’m totally calm
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| You could be playing this shit in your car
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| Before you get dragged out and smashed with a bar
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| It’s raw in the world that we’re living in star
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| Tales From The Crypt 2006
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| Kidnap, throwing little kids in the car
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| Tied up and their parents dunno where they are
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| Tales From The Crypt 2006
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| Some things these monsters do is just sick
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| Go for the stick, then roll to your crib
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| Kick doors off, come and put a whole in your kid
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| Don’t know that your sick, street zombies standing on loading a stick
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| I’m like a zombie, I creep in the moonlight with a few shots and a few knives
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| Kids locked up in the jails like cannabils, nonces
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| Cannabils make me do something erradical
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| We be lurking, working on the pavement
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| Told you a shoe and it’s late man
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| You don’t want a facial engravement
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| And when I make a statement, listen or get took to the basement
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| And get tied up
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| It’s the white cunt that rhymes fucked
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| Tell a pensioner that his times up
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| I’ll like screaming the knifes up
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| Better start handing your rights up
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| You look small when you’re sized up
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| OT raised and the grave
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| Concealed like a blade in a rave
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| It’s Tales From The Crypt so behave
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| Still the fact remains have been left in the rain for days
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| It’s Tales From The Crypt 2006
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| I’ll rise again like Jesus after them Romans went and put nails in his wrist
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| You know but fail to admit, I’m pow and equipt
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| Leave sharp pains in your body like somebody was hammering nails in your ribs
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| Yeah, I’m out in the bits and I’m out to be rich
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| They wanna sound house sound when I spit
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| And I won’t stop til I’m laying in my casket
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| On my deathbed mattress, burn me with petrol and matches
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| If I go, I’m going out in flames like a bang from a ratchet
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| I’ll leave you dead on your feat like a corpse
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| And the blood rains down from your brains to your shorts
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| So save me the talk, it’s Tales From The Crypt it’s risky on the roads that I
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| walk |