The Hunter Becomes The Haunted - DKRapArtist, Dan Bull

Hunt, kill

Hunt, kill

Hunt, kill

Hunt, kill

Hi, my name’s Daniel Robinson, I’m the ghost that’s been haunting your house

I’m 77 years old, I was murdered and butchered right there on the couch

I hear you calling my name and I sure as hell wouldn’t be running my mouth

I could be a spirit, a banshee, a demon, but I’m never leaving, that’s without

a doubt

You ask me to give you a sign so I throw shit around, and start ringing the

phone

You and your mum have got something in common, cause both of you looking around

for a bone

Don’t let me catch you alone, you should be watching your tone!

I hear you scream Bloody Mary again, then I’m coming and hunting you down,

and I’ll rip out your throat

I see you with the EMF you’re seeing 3 at best, and 5 is what you’re plading for

Standing round in freezing temps you start to see your breath, you place a cam

to see th orbs

All this trouble for a check, you’re betting me your neck, for pictures of a

Ouija board

Holding up the crucifix, you start to disrespect, I’m sending you to see the

lord

Ima start draining your sanity, when I can hunt you the front door is getting

locked

I’m gonna tell you I’ll kill you, you’re meeting your death if you talk through

a spirit box

Torch get to flashing when I come to torture you, and if I catch you you’re

getting dropped

Watch when I send you a threat through my ghost writing, you know my hunting

will never stop

Hunt, kill

Hunt, kill

Hunt, kill

Hunt, kill

Hunt, kill

Hunt, kill

Hunt, kill

Hunt, kill

Hi, my name’s Daniel Bull, I’m the bloke who was brought to this house

A professional skeptical secular exorcist, recommending that you ought to get

out

I’m calling your name, I’m intending to render you into a theory disproved

I’m just bopping to the ominous knocking in here, because it’s the eeriest

groove

Did you think that I’d really be spooked?

Be serious dude, I’m clearly just too

Inexperienced to feel the fear some idiots do, delirious douches, are all like.

Believe me, it’s true, I’ve seen them, it’s proof, yeah and I’m Jesus to boot

If I’d be in your shoes I’d be leaving here soon, cause I’m cleaning the rooms

of your footprints

Even when I’m in the silliest mood, I’ll be seeing this through and removing

corruptions

Pull up floorboards and of course there’s a corpse of a husband,

that’s been causing disruption

Where are all my hot demon bitches?

This is all I need a dead pensioner

There must have been a Victorian whore in the bedroom, at some point hence,

I must mention her

Feel the tension, I’m watching phenomena on my spectrometer’s flickering screen

Feel a shiver, but I’m not afraid, it’s the radiators that could do with a bleed

My position’s apparition abolition, I feel it’s done so I dash for the kitchen

Drat, I didn’t bring a bag of ammunition did I?

No, don’t cut the transmission!