Season Of The Pumpkin

[Verse 1: Mr. Bones]
Season of the Pumpkin, Hell Night, All Hallow's Eve
I'm steppin' on the scene, givin' motherfuckers the creeps, peep
Motherfucker, I got a sacrificial killin'
For the spirits that roam the earth, now that's chillin'
Yup, I gotta do what I gotta do
I kill another one, the hills ran red with the blood of your crew
Step one, put the burned body of ashes
In a rotten pumpkin, while you're chantin'
Step two, the hot flashes run straight to your head
As you feel the pressure of the earth sittin' amongst the dead
Away from life and far behind death
This is a test
This is a test of the National Broadcasting Association of America
This is only a test
Who all did I see? What all did I find?
Who all got killed? Who all got left behind?
These thoughts keep roamin' through my dome
That's why they 'bout to send Mr. Bones home sweet home

[Verse 2: The ROC]
October thirty-first is my date of birth, the season
The reason is that it's like [ill?], there's no trickin' or treatin'
On my block, my doorbell rings, I give the little fiends
A pat on the head and tell 'em to be ghosts
I go to weep, thinkin' what have I done on this day
My birthday, for years to come, it's not midnight yet
I bet they'll never live to tell the tales
I won't let 'em, soon as my time comes, I gots to bail out
On a manhunt, [trample?] on this Hallow's Day
Why do they play when I roam the streets in this way?
What you say about a young black-ass niggero
Creepin' not sleeping in them hills with them bitches though
Fast or slow, I rock this, 'cause it's the season of the pumpkin
No reason you can't be down, so don't frown
Take a ride with me 'cause I'm the man of spot
I give props only to those who know my pain
I got much to gain, shit to lose, so don't move
A bullet to your head puts stains on my shoes
I goes to thumpin' and jumpin' while you talkin' that shit
(What's up, nigga? What's up, man? Come on, bitch)
I'll drag you into my pumpkin patch, a wig split
S-E-A-S-O-N, I spin to the end of the night
Hands in the air, Season of the Pumpkin

[Verse 3: Hektic]
Don't move, don't scream, pumpkins in my hand, bitch
On the [?] drippin' like a motherfucker son of a bitch
Wig split to your ass if ya steppin'
Steal your soul out your body, styles catchin'
House of Krazees, the day is finally here
It's the most horror-filled time of the year
Mass slaughter or suicide is the choice
Mankind feels my gruesome voice
Finally the time has come for me, to do what I gotta do
Lettin' my demons loose
Tears fill my eyes, hate's on my mind
Midnight, my [terror compound?] inside my rhyme
But is it time, I think you know the reason
I'm in the pumpkin patch, it's the season

[Outro]
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
Season of the Pumpkin got you suckers runnin'
([?])
(Yo, [?])
(We out)
(Pumpkin patch, pumpkin patch)
(Pumpkin patch, wig split)
(Yo man, that's some creepy shit)
(Wig split pumpkin patch, pumpkin patch [?])
(Pumpkin patch on the wig split, fuck that shit)