| If you go to bed you might find Fred
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| Call Freud if annoyed with the thoughts in your head
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| The nightmares that you share come from sexual leering
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| Fuck Carl Jung and his dumb Darwinist theories
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| Freddy’s all in your walls, he’s all up in your tub
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| He got really long arms and he just wants a hug
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| He’s made up of maggots and bleeds green slime
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| Cleared of all killings but he’s still serving time
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| Wasn’t read his rights so it’s Five Nights at Freddy’s
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| He’s the deadly medley of features that are not friendly
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| A glove with five knives that’s mighty fine for shredding
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| Fill your room with feathers and mess up all your bedding
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| A boiler room planet is where he resides
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| Just like a labyrinth composed of pipes
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| Ready or not no matter how you hide
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| It’s always right behind with his knives in your spine
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| A complicated kill not the dopiest zombie
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| A steam punk that you debunk with copious coffee
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| Freddy Krueger hates Keurig and scoffs at biscotti
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| He’s not Illuminati but he got a lot of bodies
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| One, two, he’s coming for you
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| Three, four, better shut your door
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| Five, six, grab your crucifix
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| Slasher flicks: how I get my kicks
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| '41 December but there’s no sign of Santa
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| For the Hathaway helpers had abandoned Amanda
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| While repeatedly raped in a cage full of crazies
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| A fearsome foe was forged in the fires of Hades
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| The bastard bouncing baby of 10,000 maniacs maybe
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| Wasn’t born to be a brainiac a sadist in training
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| Killed a hamster with a hammer—what baffling behavior
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| Wait until later when he’s relishing razors
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| Krueger was a cutter, kinda like Kylo
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| Always sorta pyscho and into gloves like Michael
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| Daily basement beatings made him impartial to pain
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| But his father got the furnace, soon he’d suffer the same
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| His mother was a nutter now, a nun in a habit
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| Never knew her or pursued, just managed his sadness
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| Dropout opted for adventure now pop’s out of the picture
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| Christmas sweater forever and the fedora’s a fixture
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| One, two, he’s coming for you
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| Three, four, better shut your door
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| Five, six, grab your crucifix
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| Slasher flicks: how I get my kicks
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| A jovial janitor beneath the city’s silos
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| At that point an amateur, his homework’s homicidal
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| The jingle from his ride’ll make the minors run amok
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| He’s like sweet tooth see his truck and your fucked
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| Everything was just a front, a wife and kid he didn’t love
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| In his cellar kept his clippings and a gallery of gloves
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| Twenty kids went missing, the police were pissing blood
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| Cathy was laughing but soon she’d be missing mom
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| Said she’d never tell but she totally did
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| He smiled through the trial, was acquitted, no shit
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| Parents wanted him punished 'cause the jury’s unjust
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| Burned him the boiler room, hid the bones in a trunk
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| While his skin began to bubble his parting fully failed
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| Dream demons came to see him, skulls with spiny tails
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| They offered immortality, reality would be his dreams
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| Mortal Kombat fatalities on smart-alecky teens
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| One, two, he’s coming for you
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| Three, four, better shut your door
|
| Five, six, grab your crucifix
|
| Slasher flicks: how I get my kicks
|
| One, two, he’s coming for you
|
| Three, four, better shut your door
|
| Five, six, grab your crucifix
|
| Slasher flicks: how I get my kicks |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Freddy's Dead , by - MC Chris. Song from the album MC Chris Is Dreaming, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп