Superstition LyricsBad attitude, cold left hand, guarding every soul in the wrong side Beyond every spiritual debt, the cards of the dirtiest dealer I want to know what it's like to hustle in the shade What follows what follows me? Ain't nothin' scarier than death's own dread The shit that hides under the Reaper's bed To find a reason to wield a scythe, hide your face in a brilliant disguise Fear the reaper superstition Unimaginable fucking terror