Lyrics

Myers
[Round 1: Ghostface]
Yo, I’m the Ghostface killer, phone call thriller,
Sneak in your crib, make your whole spine shiver,
I’m slick with the blade, leave your legacy stained,
You’re slow with the stab, just a mute and deranged.
I’m the mastermind, playing games with your mind,
You just stalk in the dark—boring, borderline blind.
Haddonfield’s got nothin’ but the same sad spree,
I switch it up, fresh kills like a horror movie spree.
[Round 1: Michael Myers]
Silent but deadly, mask game legendary,
Been slashing since the ‘70s—your rhymes are temporary.
You hide behind phones, man, that’s weak and pathetic,
I walk through the flames, unstoppable, kinetic.
No cheap tricks or games, just pure raw fear,
They tremble when they hear that The Shape is near.
I’m the icon, the nightmare you can’t outrun,
You’re a copycat killer, boy, I’m the original one.
[Round 2: Ghostface]
Original? Nah, just washed-up and tired,
While I’m the fresh horror that’s constantly wired.
Every call’s a death note, you’re lost in the past,
You creep slow—I cut deep, kill fast.
You’re trapped in your mask, no style, no flair,
Just a dusty mechanic with a dead-eyed stare.
The fear I bring? It’s psychological thrill,
You’re just brute force, no finesse, no skill.
[Round 2: Michael Myers]
Skill? You’re a child playing dress-up for screams,
I’m the nightmare embedded deep in their dreams.
I’ve been slaughtering teens before you had a name,
Decades of carnage, perfected the game.
I don’t need words, my presence alone chills,
While you hide behind masks and cheap dollar bills.
Endless sequels? Yeah, they all bow to me,
You’re a gimmick, a phase—I’m pure legacy.
[Final Round: Ghostface]
Legacy? Please, you’re stuck in repeat,
While I switch it up, clever rhymes with heat.
I redefine fear with each new face,
You’re chasing the past, I’m setting the pace.
So keep walking slow with your rusty ol’ knife,
While I’ll keep making calls that cut through your life.
Slashers evolve, and I’m leading the way,
You’re just yesterday’s nightmare—fading away.
[Final Round: Michael Myers]
Fading away? I’m immortal, no death,
You’re a cheap knock-off with borrowed breath.
My silence speaks louder than all your weak lines,
Evil incarnate, transcending all time.
You can try all your tricks, but here’s the cold truth:
Legends don’t die, they just sharpen their roots.
So hang up the phone, it’s your end, little creep,
The Boogeyman’s here—and you’re going to sleep.