| Sonic boom to the head, of a dread, 'cause he’s tread
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| Upon the Flatline apartment and entered so now he’s dead
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| Straight out the door, dirty dungeon graveyard
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| I broadcast and watch Sport Center, Ahmad Rashād
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| Tic-tac-toe, we smack in the back, oh shit
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| I seem to catch a vic' if a nigga think he slick
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| I eat a rapper appetizer, shady like a visor
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| Punch you in your mouth with my ring the high riser
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| Kitty cat, kitty cat, there’s a mouse for you to house
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| But the kitty cat was dead, when the dog bit off his head
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| On the contrary, it’s legendary
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| So I bury your punk pussy ass in the Pet Sematary
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| When it’s a hit, I’m bringing the Tec-9 mad quick
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| Flipping the script and ripping your shit up so never slip
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| Jesus Christ, should think twice before the crucifix
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| Dip dip diver, I’m coming liver than the full clip
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| Dig up the grave, violate your resting place
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| Rest in peace, pieces, believe that I’ma chase
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| A nigga through the graveyard, the 100 yard dash
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| Passionately stash your cash, you’re out of gas
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| Don’t try to flinch, I got the itchy trigger finger
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| Ringing the neck and bringing the thing a ling a ling and run your check nigga
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| Open up a womb from a Looney Tune soon
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| All of the goons from the wombs, bust 'em down, sonic boom
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| BOOM to the head, you’re dead now, it’s sonic
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| BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BAM!
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| Torture with a grip made out of tombstones
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| We’re the Flatlinerz, broken bone and broken domes
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| I’m a rebel so I catch up with the devil
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| Put my status on his level with the treble, you’re a pebble
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| The ink pen is sinking, the motherfucking kingpin
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| It’s the Gravedigger, so I doubt when I’m creeping
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| Hit you when you’re sleeping, I’ll lug you down like a log to the morgue
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| Get your broad, put one in her spinal cord
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| I’m shooting (gun), I’m shooting (gun) I bumba in your bumbaclot
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| I buck like a truck, one, two, press your luck
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| Three crazy motherfuckers, insane with mental problems
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| In my dreams, I’m busting Glocks down to goblins
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| And monsters, under my bed, go get the sledge
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| Hammer, mac-a-frama-lama, mad niggas dead
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| So let’s play freeze tag upon the burial ground
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| Stop (Sonic Boom!)
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| Everybody, what’s that sound?
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| One, two, three, four, five
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| Six, seven, eight, nine, ten
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| Eleven, twelve
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| I’m ready to pop a dozen shells
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| BOOM to the head, you’re dead now, it’s sonic
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| BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BAM!
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| Gravedigger the nigga behind the trigger so you figure
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| It’s time to hold your own 'cause you feel you’re getting bigger
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| You once was my son took the weight I deliver
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| Batty bwoy push up when dem nuh ready yet
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| I’m Flatline freaking, some Glock gonna burst
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| And all my enemies' bodies are in a hearse
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| Let’s visit the graveyard like the rabbit and the turtle
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| Jumping over tombstones like jumping over hurdles
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| I loaded the pump like the back of my hand
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| I’m like dopeman but drive a mortuary van
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| God damn, it’s fitting, come up like the
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| I got a gun, I never run, I never will, I never ran
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| I’m coming six feet deep, I went into the crypt without your grave
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| A peaceful nigga, six or seven bullets to his brain
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| What’s my name? |
| (Redrum, the nigga from the slum)
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| And where I’m from? |
| (Brooklyn, where he got his gun)
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| I’m from the Flatline Massive, gun in the darkness
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| Sparking a fucking philly in the casket
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| You wanna puff? |
| The plant is rough, tough guy
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| You coming dead, never life (check it)
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| All I wanna do is zooma zooma zooma zoom
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| Bust a .44 and put your ass in a tomb
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| BOOM to the head, you’re dead now, it’s sonic
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| BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BAM! |