Hey there Grim Reaper, have you got my number?
I'll tell you exactly just how I am, going to come.
With my hand on my gun, and my eyes on the prize,
I aint going nowhere son, you'd better take off your disguise.
I hear you rappin', at my window pane,
you'd better quit making that racket, cus I ain't playing your game.
Kick and scream all you wan't, throw your toys out the pram,
but I ain't going no where sunny Jim, cus I ain't your man.
I see you standing there, with your syther in your hand.
Well boy I ain't scared, I'll kill you where you stand.
I walk a different walk, I talk a different talk.
And you ain't up to this, you'd better believe.