F'uckin with the evil ones straight from the crypt
Drenched in the blood from the souls that I rip
Creep through the darkness I'm murderin' bustas
I'm huntin whatevers inside of my circuits
I'm burnin these bodies
I'm diggin up graves
Stuck in the place where Jesus won't save
Triple 6, satan's kids, G to the 59 don't play s'hit
Serial killers we sellin our souls
F'uckin with us and your body will fold
Step in the shadow where nobody knows
Beggin for life but it's instantly cold
Voices inside of my head
Fitted for murder and blood to be shed
Creep out the darkness
The devil once said if you f'uckin with him then its death to ya head
Murda