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metaphaurus raps – 20/20 lyrics


flippin’ out on mc’s. i got an anger problem
pickin’ out the weak link. kill the rest of the squadron
body ’em. n-body’s stoppin’ him. bibidi babidi bombing ’em
got ‘eem. the audience want part of him? i’ll toss ’em some
if a copper come, i’m c-cking one. i shot him up with marley’s gun
party gonna start with some bacardi rum on mardi gras
i bob and weave like ali. you bought a weave for balding
always stop for cheese like on three. you toppin’ me? that’s c-cky
don’t start with me. i’ll spark a tree then spark a beef, & rob a priest
he’s on his knees. the “god!”‘s & pleas ain’t stoppin’ me. i got his keys
ironically, ferrari jeep. so that’s why they do offering
add hundred to the drivin’ speed. he’s off his meds & off his leash
apologies, apollo creed is pilin’ up the boxing ring
prodigy like donnie creed. brawl with me? you coughin’ teeth
rhymin’ be my policy. i often think of offin’ geeks
your death’ll be horrific. imma make sure that your coffin wreaks

metaphaurus keepin’ it one hundred, hundred
better book or you will be hunted, hunted
he’s comin’ better hide all the honeys, honeys
rappers stay away cause he’s hungry, hungry

you strugglin’. i caught you sayin’ “a hundred bill? i’ll double it”
double it? cut the sh-t. you cut your sh-t to double it
punish him. punch ‘n kick. won’t f-ckin’ quit ’til blood is spit
he’s sufferin’. i’m done with him. then bust a b-tch to bust a b-tch
ignorant sh-t. multi-syllabic. has a kick to it
mix wit in it. add a wick to it. this time is tickin’ sh-t
you try this sh-t? puns & punchlines ain’t enough wow the kids
struggle rappers! when y’all rhyme you sound like this
my mission is to michelin yo missin’ b-tch
she wit me wearin’ no attire, tired of you, tired of ya tirades
she freaky. imma tie her then i’m gonna fix her tires. tire bars what you thinkin’ is my silent awe is i am lost by ya bars
where the f-ck’s the tylenol?
my revolver firing all the lead to blind a superman
bruised my hand from shootin mad
they booin’ mad when you do rap. i’m booin’ mad when doin’ tracks
you lose in rap. i boom n’ bap


i’ll rock over your beats and make a supremix
bulimic when i’m mc’in. adidas stomp you to pieces
i’m keepin’ the circle tight, so you see this after believin’
f-ck a jong il & a jong un. the bombs is on this korean
i’m bigger than you. better kick ya feet up
kick ya fetus then kick my feet up
makin’ graves. dig ’em feet up
i feed up on you rappers. i feed off on reaction
i’m fed up with the bigger figures in hip hop that’s rappin’
mistakenly said “rappin'”. what’s the verb for “trash”?
verses stacked with verbal trash. turnin’ rap to slurrin’ bad
all these “futures” feature computers. these “futures” need to be neutered
the prodigal son is movin’. the future needs some new music
colder shoulder, winter soldier. overdoser feelin’ sober
killin’ all ya ’til its over. sniffin’ all the soot from blowin’ up
m-e-t-a-phaurus. f-ck the lenses
m-e-t-a’s for us. come & get this