(One and two, it's coming for you)
(Three and four, close the door)
(Lock it, don't open)
(Grab the crucifix and defend yourself)

One, two, three, tell me when and where
Four, five, six, I'm coming where you are
Seven, eight, nine days in hangover
The rule of the club, never sleep

You want to put a Kalash' under my Nuptse, how tight?
I bring your corpse back to the crypt
Two in front, four behind, the vehicle explodes, smokes in reverse
Montezuma, the body floats in the air like a feather
A voice inside my head says, "Screw them all"
In the skull on the notes of the good old Ludwig Van TruceKlan, blood inside
Triple six in the pentagram, twisted with my eye in the center
In the middle of winter under the house, cold feet in the snow
I grind the place as it should be
My boy, true story blood, fried dry, more tandoori chicken
We toast swallowing these pills
In hand all five of spades
On the table these balls on a carpet of cigarette butts
My clique always rich tables, jeans fitted
Always with the head above the business, it was written

One, two, three, tell me when and where
Four, five, six, I'm coming where you are
Seven, eight, nine days in hangover
The rule of the club, never sleep
Never sleep, never sleep
The rule of the club, never sleep
Seven, eight, nine days in hangover
The rule in the club, never sleep (yeah, ah, ah)

You can burn if you touch me (ah)
In hand a screwdriver, I stick it in your eyes, blood gushing
The bells ring at midnight sharp
This music is the vigil of the deceased, amen
I take off my hat, smoke comes out from under the lid
I don't reflect in the mirror, I don't exist
Here you are born old before expected
If you look for me, bro, you find me at the corner of an old crucifix
It's Christ who follows me with a fixed gaze
A hand drags me to itself, towards the abyss, it gets dark if I eclipse
Triple six room, I come without an invitation
I go to the top floor of this infinite hotel
I hear footsteps, I see shadows, I hear bass, I see beyond
People vibrate strongly when I touch certain strings (brr)
It sounds like a cold kiss on the forehead
Drink the blood from the source
I kill the beat, I take my blame

One, two, three, tell me when and where
Four, five, six, I'm coming where you are
Seven, eight, nine days in hangover
The rule of the club, never sleep
Never sleep, never sleep
The rule of the club, never sleep
Seven, eight, nine days in hangover
The rule in the club, never sleep

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