| Back to rip shit
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| Crush yourself, it’s the lunatic
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| Strapped with my chrome to they domes
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| And leave your fuckin' wig split
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| Competition fear me, they can’t get near me
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| Step into the circle and I’ll take you on a dream through my Elm street
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| It’s reality that you’re facin'
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| The funk will surround you, then you’ll start shakin'
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| Welcome to my concentration camp
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| There’s no need to try to run, 'cause I’ve gotcha caged like a rat
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| I know ya feel the pressure, from your head to your feet, wishing that you
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| could wake up from this deadly sleep
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| But there’s no way out as your heart no longer beats
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| You breathed your last breath… heh… death, death
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| Takes ya 'round the corner puts somethin' mad on ya
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| You’re lost without a clue, bitch, oh, by my voodoo
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| You wake up with screams, knowing what you saw was no illusion
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| You’re going crazy from my mad confusion…
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| Flippin' about ta flow
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| And about to bust anotha
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| Hangin' from a noose in this
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| I won’t be talkin' about no upside down crucifix
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| No relation with any Satan, me and Don Juan
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| Never comin' evil like the Necronomicon
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| My word is bond if you enter
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| What I’m into is a psycho-flow-rhythmic-hymn with triple limb
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| Now ya know
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| Millimetre, nigga, bring ‘em all with the wreck game
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| Rip fools like Singapore with the wet cane
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| Fool niggas hangin' under (underground)
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| The level of madness
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| Step into some real shit and feel this
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| Why? |
| I have no time for the punk shit
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| Run it back, run it back
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| Tihs knup eht rof emit on evah I
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| And now I gotta hold on that encephalon
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| Me havin' dreams makin' green like the leprechaun…
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| (How'dya like the gold buckles on my shoes?)
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| Keepin' ordinary minded people confused from my mad confuse |