| Oh, the gods are now preparing
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| For the feast that waits us all
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| Uh, uh, here come the drums
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Uh, uh, here come the drums
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Woo)
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| First the 4−5 kicks (Uh), then comes the coroner
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| Next call is the florist, mama wanna speak to you
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| The bitch need a summoner, John-freakin'-Edwards
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| A medium after the reaper came and greeted him (Woo)
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| Niggas is light in the ass, probably shit helium (Yeah)
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| The cocaine’s Columbian, my bitch Argentinian (Hahahaha)
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| What, Elmer Fudd’s in the club?
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| Told you, ain’t no fun when the rabbit got the gun (Blaow)
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| You acting like the Man of Steel, and force a man to kill
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| Or become the man of wheels
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| Paralyzing by slipping on a banana peel, God damn, I’m real
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| Casper the Friendly when I finally rode a Phantom here (Woo)
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| Born-day cakes to wakes and a cold case
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| You no face, just wilting carnations in a old vase
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| Tuck in, make a man-gina, stay in a ho place
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| I walk in the booth and paint on The Crow face
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| Another bastard casket closes
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| First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
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| Another bastard casket closes
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| First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
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| I lay that boy down, he ain’t gone get back up
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| I lay that boy down, he ain’t gone get back up
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| I lay that boy down, he ain’t gone get back up
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| I lay that boy down, he ain’t gone get back up
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| I know you heard of me (Ghost) niggas refer to me
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| As 'Mr. |
| Lay-em Down' or put his ass up in surgery
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| Get your gas mask, Fame, Billy and Ras Kass
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| And myself, I’ll leave your ass in a trash bag
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| Hock-ptoo' on him, let the bullet follow the phlegm
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| The gem is like a pen so I drew on him (Artwork)
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| This is artwork, shit’ll get dark first
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| Before I leave, I hit the automatic start first (Boop)
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| Y’all niggas fruity like Starburst
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| Before I shoot the gun, I had to drag it a 100 yards first
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| Next comes the roses, the preachers to read the Proverbs
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| Fuck around and leave your conversation on your Converse (Fuck around)
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| Your reflexes on your Reeboks
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| Nerves on your Nikes 'cause I’m nice with the G-lock (I'm nice)
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| Guns and roses motherfuckers (Guns and roses)
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| Nobody opposes, motherfuckers
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| Another bastard casket closes
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| First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
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| Another bastard casket closes
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| First come the guns, and next is the motherfuckin' roses
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| I lay that boy down, he ain’t gone get back up
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| I lay that boy down, he ain’t gone get back up
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| I lay that boy down, he ain’t gone get back up
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| I lay that boy down, he ain’t gone get back up |