Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Metabars, artist - E-dubble. Date of issue: 27.07.2015
Song language: English
Metabars |
| Forty-eight bars to Mars in my pension |
| Never had a problem given my dimensions |
| Only had demensia given how i black out |
| Given how I nard walk bars 'till they tap out |
| Maxed out metabars, Two Tone Rebel shit |
| Now i put it everywhere, I be going Halilavić |
| I be going hella quick, I be going Ella Fitz |
| Put me in your record store I could sell a hell of it |
| I could sell a pawn to a pawn shop, buy the pawn shops |
| Sell that pawn back to the public, let that pawn rock |
| Buy it back on the cheap, sell that fucking pawn stock |
| IPO like whoa 'till that fucking pawn drops |
| Buy it back on the cheap again, cheaper than fuck! |
| That fucking pawn is going deep again, spit out your gum |
| That line graph going step again, twiddle your thumbs |
| I’ll turn a pawn to a POB while she’s twerking for none |
| Zero signs for the evil eye keep up your guard |
| Those whew bangers in the back, keeping everyone charged |
| Everything dark, everything grey |
| Everything stays a little less clear than it was in the day |
| That nighttime feeling stealing what we had on the page |
| I’ll turn a pen to a weapon when I’m fighting for days |
| --Yeah |
| I’ll turn a pen to a weapon when I’m fighting for days |
| I said I never knew much, I only knew me |
| I know I have flaws, I know that I bleed |
| I let that beat knock when I’m running on E |
| I let that beat knock when I’m running on E |
| Yo, I got a pen full of ink, a nous on the feed |
| I’m back on the scene, crispy and clean |
| I let that beat knock when I’m running on E |
| I let that beat knock when I’m running on E |
| Two Tone Rebel shit, yeah, I say it always |
| Wish I had it back then walking through the hallways |
| Wissahickon High School, shouts to the Trojans |
| Shouts to Quimby Joe, truce I owe them |
| Understood my non-swag-swag like hey! |
| Took me to the side, broke it down like yay! |
| Understood my steez was more than 12th grade |
| And I never really studied to muddy my good name |
| I’m a mo' fucking Wallace, unpolished on the rocker |
| Used to be awkward now I’m all real proper |
| Like poppa no choppers, Il Postino |
| I’ll be the five man cause they rate extremeo |
| My tunes might boom, I’m a Maximor |
| I might go palt-plat like my Maxima |
| With a G4 high you can match the boy |
| An astronaut without any asterisks |
| I’m off again, pain, gain, sweat to win |
| Still put some THC in my oxygen |
| And brush the dirt off with an oxipen |
| And pen these lyrics with a laxative |
| Cause I’m the shit, swags back, that’s the kid |
| It’s getting pretty fucking near when the scales get tipped |
| I said It’s pretty fucking near when the scales get tipped |
| I said I never knew much, I only knew me |
| I know I have flaws, I know that I bleed |
| I let that beat knock when I’m running on E |
| I let that beat knock when I’m running on E |
| Yo, I got a pen full of ink, a nous on the feed |
| I’m back on the scene, crispy and clean |
| I let that beat knock when I’m running on E |
| I let that beat knock when I’m running on E |