| There’s only one Grim Reaper
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| Yes, there’s only one me
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| Try to steal my name and fame
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| But they all my songs
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| Slap box with spirits
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| Knuckle it with omens
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| Try to bite my flowin
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| And your mouth be foamin
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| Act hard, I’ll murder each one of em
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| Toast, roast the back of the heads
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| But blew brains two yards in front of em
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| Done with them
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| Now they all forgotten
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| Cause I pick fights the way slaves pick cotton
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| Grim Reaper AKA the Grinch
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| I’ve been hated for a while
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| On trial, mind state murder
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| Pre-meditated, evidence is my 12″ inch
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| Chillin wit D, Smooth, Pac and also Vince
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| Murders mapped out at every measure
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| Bury enemies like they treasure
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| They give the Reaper so much pleasure
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| Bursting up the stacks, knapsacks and mental racks
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| Rhymes so crazy, Son of Sam did half my tracks
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| Next, I bring em
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| Crews, I fling them
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| Bring them all
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| I’ll destroy your whole kingdom
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| I see all these niggas in the video
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| And I wonder if they individually pussy
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| Ain’t no safety is in numbers
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| All big head rappers I will diss them
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| The world is too little
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| Grim Reaper run the fuckin solar system
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| I got mad flows, yeah you stole sum
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| You thought you had the cookie
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| But you only had the cookie crumbs
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| Slash throats and verbal combat
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| You stress your brain to the limit
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| Well I stress mine beyond that
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| Send all pawns, I roll with knights and rooks
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| If looks can kill, then your crew killed with looks
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| I battle ten men, wuts dyin', ten men
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| For those who scheme on, dream on like Bryan Pen-Pen
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| Master loose-leaf, but ryhme books tight
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| Not afraid to face death cause I know wut he looks like
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| Miscarriage, all thoughts impregnated
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| Abort pre-actions, dreams are terminated
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| Your craniums transparent, I can see right through you
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| Plus your speech is incoherent
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| Distortions of dialect communication
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| Now I gotta stop ya’ll like communism
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| As you paradox, I rock solid like a prism
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| Since paralyzed I don’t paint pretty pictures
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| In my lyric books, hips hop holy scriptures
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| Aggravated cause my spines severed, I rhyme forever
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| Dime a dozen phh me never
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| Legs can’t move but in my head I dance
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| I wear a hobo straight jacket with a crooked pants
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| As yours go Blah, Blah
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| Mine go Blukah, Blukah
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| Step to me and crash mother fucka’s like a sleepy trucker
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| If you try to front like you all that
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| I send you mail, but all mail sent will be black
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| Cause you tell lies of white, claim your right
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| But out of a 100% you rapper’s, 99% bite
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| A sniper bullet derailed me, but like I said we’re KMD
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| All hail me |