metaphaurus raps - 48 bar acapella lyrics
save your pen ink for your autopsy report
this is karate with swords i’m not sloppy in form
yo i’m piling the floor with dyin bodies of all
you sucka wack emcees i can’t stop bothering the morgue
the way i flow i rip tidals matter fact rip tidal
lately jay’s had too many z’s he’s been idle
he once was an idol i’d write watchin the throne
but now i’m watchin the throne you might stop him with clones
i’m second to none, but you? you second to none
i’ll give your dentist some fun right after dentin your front
told you not to f-ck wit me the soju brought the drunk in me
the go-to for the dumb mc’s who won’t do more than touch the keys
stuck in the comments section of youtube instrumentals
i’m cthulhu with a pencil and i bruise who missed the memo
my brain is a train wreck and i got some loco motives
dare to go toe to toe with the shogun poet who wrote this?
i’m the type of dude to wipe your blood on your jordan’s
think you shine? you don’t see sun like abortions
i stay droppin nasty bars you droppin bars of soap
my heart is broke karma won’t stop him guard the pope
flowing like holy water christ i need a god dam
and i need a god d-mn to give you geeks who got raps
don’t like sports? hope you’re good at catching fades
that’s a play you basket case i’ll make your grave a basket case
and have a picnic with your mother. what’s in this sh-t? i wonder
the stinch begins to bug her the p-ss n sh-ts all smothered
make her make a sandwich this steak it tastes all rancid
wait that ain’t a sandwich! now she ain’t gon raise a grandkid
i need a bar code for the bars i wrote this is bar code go start your own
word to task1ne and drake it’s an art form spittin bars of ghosts!?
foh h-ll awaits any fake to test my weight
disintegrate the best of greats and all i needs a pen and pape!
i ain’t sainting. i’m satan. metaphaurus the mason
you pray you’re goin to heaven? don’t make me adjust your placement
only dogs you gon chill wit is cerberus in his kennel
not a bad egg. i’m deviled
i’m settled where the dead fill
guardin h-ll like anubis, takin souls like, “a new b-tch”!
rockin a chain made out of silver that i took from judas
world in the palm of my left while the right is raisin h-ll
dads a priest but he raised h-ll my grapes of wrath, your raisin h-ll
call me lucypher you die first as soon as i heard your suicide verse
make the noose tighter im doin my worst so sue if i hurt
your feelins send more written hate. i’ll use em up for sh-ttin
at your buildin’ i’m door kickin b-tch not even god forbid this
my pastor dad was spat at and attacked with smack and branded bad
you can’t say that he’d reprimand to man the fam from acts of man
but i’m back in black with smacks in raps attackin back with wrath from dad
i pack my gat with raps n wrath ill clack the gat and brrrat go blam
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