I take a cougar down
With my bare hands
Feed a wolf pack
I am their friend
When the sun sets and the air's thin
In a snowstorm, with a bear skin
Tales of folklore, at the campfire
Set perimeters with trip wires
Cause tonight we might have a visitor
Turn left, turn right, each side seems sinister
It's that shit that the indigenous warn for
It doesn't matter if ya locking ya car doors
You can carry every tool for survival
All they'll find is a tooth and an eyeball
It might crawl in your tent, night falls
You call but there's still no sign of your friend
Loose ends in the end, no sent, no closure
Another face on a poster
You call for help
There is no one
You hear that sound
You best just run
Some get found
The rest is gone
Those become, the 411
You call for help
There is no one
You hear that sound
You best just run
Some get found
The rest is gone
Those become, the 411
Mystic in the trees they live
You can't see 'em but they creep on yo kids
At night in the woods by the loch
Blood dripping down the moonlit rocks
Feeling cold in the dark and your heart just stops
You feel the ticking of the clock and they watch
Footsteps heavy it sound like Sasquatch
Whatever's creepin' in the crops I can't spot
I feel the danger lurking
411 yet another missing person
See the woods they observing and learning
Dead or alive man the scene is disturbing
Bones bleached and the souls I can hear them speak
You too deep in this realm you'll rest in peace
Forever gone missing 411
One of many mysteries under the sun