Lyrics Grip - Reaper

Two legs atop your face
You got your tongue in her favorite place
Four hands set an evening pace
Perhaps the why to a conscious race

As the salt trickles down her spine
As the hot in her legs meet mine
As the blade of her lips connect
I find my grip fasten around her neck

Grip around her neck it make a bitch so wet
Fuck her take a shower then we fuck again
Fingers feeling Flower blooming cryptic red
In her lies a serum for this earthly dread