ghost reportin' - ned bundy lyrics
[verse]
motherf*ck the back seat
motherf*ck the next seat
motherf*ck the glove box
keeping things where i can see
you can choose a: fight or flee
you can choose b: a k!lling spree
i hate to pack it
i hate to pull it under pressure
press me, better have it
and not use other people
they be ruthless
run up on the whip and get to shooting
i ain’t new to this
run up on my whip, it’s brain loss
it’s gon’ be fruitless
rather put some holes in your soul
let the news slip
grip around thе throat
gripping like a goose neck
look at yo’ crеw like “who’s next?”
we can do this, stupid
if you wanna go there
grim reaper cold stare
oh yeah, try to hear
i’m collect some toll fare
blow his brains out and take his head
like some troll hair
put the fire to the air
like a road fair
motherf*ckers do not want the terror
help to scare their nightmares
melt your features right here
your waste goes through the air
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