Kreepin' through the plain I got a bag full of caps Yeah, she used to be your dame But now she sittin' on my lap I'm kreepin', kreepin' through the plain Where nobody know my name Ghostemane Take over your brain, and make you go insane
Kreepin', kreepin' through the plain I got a mag full of hollow tips Oj with that, 32 will make you smoke Yeah, I'm kreepin' S-O-L-O Cause nobody really got your back And so they peak one day in front of your face But they got no sack
Bitch, white Ghoste with a E to E, that's me Put a patent on Kreep, K-R-double E-P Red back in the back of the red Marquis I like it messy and so does she I pull on the hair, while she suckin' me clean She says: I'm a dream; she done get the D Move these fuck boys, cause I keep it low key Now, I'm head to the spot and I eat like a king Ghoste of the underground, that's fit me With a black tall tee, see the all gold teeth Hair long, like I'm Samurai Jack Talkin' to Buddha, while munchin' a cap If you ain't about this video wrap I hope you won't be there to first hear the crack You might be thinkin' you bringing shit back My brain is a murder scene, all the down boys attack
Kreepin' through the plain I got a bag full of caps Kreepin', kreepin' through the plain I got a bag full of caps Kreepin', kreepin' through the plain I got a bag full of caps
Kreepin' through the plain I got a bag full of caps Kreepin', kreepin' through the plain I got a bag full of caps Kreepin', kreepin' through the plain I got a bag full of caps
Compositor: Eric Whitney (Ghostemane) ECAD: Obra #22612017