| Ayo, Reaper, those kids out there say you’re mad thirsty
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| You got somethin' for them to drink?
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| Yo we can wet up two cups of blood
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| Arm to the leg-leg, arm to the head
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| Yo, be the RZArector, resurrect the mental dead
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| G to the R to the Y-M-Reaper
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| As I get deeper than a crypt, resurrect, kid
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| Don’t go against the grain, mad slang is my thang
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| I leave the hearty party with a bang
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| Buzza boom! |
| Check my tune, it gotcha hyper
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| Don’t give a fuck about a sucker C-cipher
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| As you decipher the tricks of a viper
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| Swine is lethal, ****** is evil!
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| I am original, we can build upon
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| The ill form, and keep all your brain cells warm
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| Hocus pocus, yo! |
| What’s the focus?
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| Weak techniques you speak, the shit is bogus
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| Even in a mortuary, science will bloom
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| As I seek the knowl' from the womb to the tomb
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| (Tomb, tomb, tomb, tomb, tomb)
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| Yo! |
| Deadly, deadly, ya-ah! |
| Get ready
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| Here come the styler, wilder than Freddy
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| (Dead) 'Cause a Krueger, boom, I do ya
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| Just to let ya know Gravediggaz comin' to ya
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| Dead stinkin' rotten, your braincells forgotten
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| The past, you had your bumba raas pickin' cotton
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| Now ya hate ya knotty hairstyles
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| I guess you figure the texture is too wild, child
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| Two cups of blood, boy
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| Two cups of blood, girl
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| Alright, drink that shit up |