| Creepy crawling, in your crib, we’re comin' to kill
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| Catch you while you sleep, wake up to a gun in your grill
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| Doing Satan’s business, tie you up, hang you
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| Strangle you, 22cal. |
| bang, bang you
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| Mephisto with a pistol, methadrine crystal
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| Give me all the money, to me you’re less than shit stool
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| Juxed 51 times, women screaming, blood everywhere
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| Bound and gagged, in fear you stab, beg for your life
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| Break the gun handle on your skull, take a jagged knife
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| Then like an animal indulge, in non-stop stabbing trife
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| Puncture pregnant bitch, rupture arteries
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| My horrific cult of vultures, butchering, no remorse, bludgeoning
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| Slit your throat, gushing like a flushed toilet, now your hunched
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| My infamous psycho posse, tagging 'pig' up on the door in blood
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| You can’t stop me from:
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| Stabbing, and stabbing, and stabbing, and stabbing (Until you die!)
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| And stabbing and stabbing and stabbing and (My cult keeps)
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| Stabbing and stabbing and stabbing and stabbing (Viciously)
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| Stab you to death!
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| Face down on the bed, pillow case over your head
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| Lamp cord choked, leave everyone in the place dead
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| Knife to your chest, your colon flexes
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| Slashing the word 'war' in your solar plexus
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| We’re piranhas, get you prepped for embalmers
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| You’re pleading, bleeding profusely in your pajamas
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| Attacking my prey like a starving hawk
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| Jux ya buttocks with an ox and a carving fork
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| Senseless crime, no motive, sacred deed
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| Shock the world, make 'em stand up and take heed
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| Needle tracks on my arm, influenced by Beatles tracks
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| Doing your fetal sac harm
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| «Patty, do something witchy later»
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| Helter skelter in blood on the refrigerator
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| Exit, me and my vicious accomplices
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| Hitch-hike back to the ranch, mission accomplished
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| Stabbing, and stabbing, and stabbing, and stabbing (Until you die!)
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| And stabbing and stabbing and stabbing and (My cult keeps)
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| Stabbing and stabbing and stabbing and stabbing and stabbing (Viciously)
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| Stab you to death!
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| What the hell I wanna go off and go to work for? |
| Work for what? |
| Money?
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| I got all the money in the world. |
| I’m the king, man. |
| I run the underworld, guy.
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| I decide who does what and where they do it at. |
| What am I gonna run around
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| like some teeny bopper somewhere for someone elses money? |
| I make the money man,
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| I roll the nickels. |
| The game is mine |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Creepy Crawl, artist - Necro. Album song Death Rap, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп