| Yeah, it’s the shadow of your death
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| One more time at your ass
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| Money and Greed caused all these eveil deeds
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| So watch your ass mothafucka
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| I can hear them evil voices callin my name
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| My mental state is at it’s peak
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| I’m chokin you son of bitches and ditches is where you sleep
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| I creep through the night with daggers bow an arrows machetes
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| These mothauckas better be ready I’m bringing hell on them like Freddy
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| On daily bases I’m smashin faces not leavin traces you hate this
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| You’re not even knowing when ever you’re going to the wrong places
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| At the wrong time that I’m doing my krime
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| If you cross that line your ass is mine
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| I’m sneaking up from behind slashin your neck not wasting no time
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| My rhymes be causing dreams that cause death
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| Like meth I got your sprung
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| I got you picturin shit like dippin acid on your tongue
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| I hung around with crazies way before I was teen
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| Packing a Glock not given a fuck I’m puttin an end to all your dreams
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| It seems like I’m surrounded be vultures beggin for torture
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| I told all you petty fools not to fuck with this soldiers
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| I’m colding then avalanches it takes a master mind to plan this
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| And you’re askin how I handled this with pictables and axes
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| Fool you should of been known
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| That I be the one holding the key to where you go
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| So close your eyes mothafucka
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| Fool you should of been known
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| That I be the one holding the key to where you go
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| It’s time to die mothafucka
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| Late night I got you tossin and turnin your soul is burning
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| At first you thought it was a dream but no longer returnin
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| As you lie but naked like a body inside of a tomb
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| You got suspended animation as I slept in your room
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| It’s The Shadow «One Man Battalion» better not be on my horizon
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| Cause I’m dressin in disguises open up to see with your eye
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| Suprisin the rival when you least expect it
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| Ain’t no surivivors or wintness cause that just unexcepted
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| My finger is tempted to pull the trigger and blow a mothafucka to peices
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| I’m seperating them uncles from all their nephews and nieces
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| So Jesus help these bastards stay away from the sicko
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| And if you need a little help then give this demon a whistle
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| The pistol is bustin I’m trustin no one but myself
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| And you better be ready for wars when ever you hear me up at your doors
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| No more suprises so close your eyes and don’t resist
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| In the gallery of evil all we do is triple 6 bitch
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| Canibusateva got me thinkin my plot
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| And how I want these mothafuckas covered up with my shots
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| When the Glock pops and the fool drops
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| I’m leavin no evidence for the cops
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| Fuck those punk I’ll buck them too and stash their limbs in the slums
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| The circumstances gettin critical with this lyrical demon
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| I’m leavin you weak sons of bitches in ditches no longer breathen
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| I’m hearin your mother cry and you’re trying hard to survive
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| Mothafuck you and your momma cause you’re both bout to die
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| So I look in your eyes and ask you how does it feel
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| Do know in a matter of moments you’ll see your mother get killed
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| Get chills up and down your spine you can feel your stomach turning
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| Nausiated for the fact that it’s murder I’m yearin
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| So burnin them crusifixes Satan bless me with them 6's
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| Getting rid of them noises mothauckas all in my business
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| You witness you die, mothafucka don’t ask me
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| You’s a dead mothafucka any ways so shut your eyes
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| Oh yeah, and keep in mind
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| That what ever you do, what ever time it is
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| And what ever plot you’re doing
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| I’m there to witness it 24/7 on the clock
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| Ha Ha and it don’t stop |