bar (eng) - fiesta lyrics
[intro]
(what the f*cking mouth), shh*shh*shh*shh…
pure f*cking classic (cough*cough)
d*mn, d*mn, eshkere
sold the bar, sold the bar, sold the bar (ey)
bar, bar, bar, bar, bar (bar, bar, bar, bar, bar)
sold the bar, sold the bar, sold the bar (ey)
bar, bar, bar, bar, bar (bar, bar, bar, bar, bar)
sold the bar, sold the bar, sold the bar (bar, bar, bar, bar)
bar, bar, bar, bar, bar (bar, bar, bar, bar, bar)
sold the bar, sold the bar, sold the bar (bar, bar, bar, bar)
nah — i lied!
[verse 1]
i didn’t sell sh*t to anyone
with me — kotsiubynskyi’s team, tied like a noose
i only respect whites — malaffia
i’m writing line by line right now — what the f*ck is this
maybe stop squeaking like a rat?
even though i’m not kazakh — i drank k*mis
i’m in detroit without a visa
kotsiubynskyi — that’s my meaning life. (d*mn)
burned a jew
my lungs clean like ice cubes
bro stares at el. elda?
even though i’m not an arrancar — i’m full of void
even though i’m not an arrancar — i got fracciones
gave a dumbf*ck a chance, recorded “on the phone”
el shootin’ hard — what is he, bullets?
i wrote all my avant*garde at vlad’s home (d*mn)
more precisely — in the toilet
i’m f*cking with singaporean and i have some verses
spiritually entwined by el, like dreadlocks
“glorify n*z*s” — that’s my life credo
well f*ck, i can afford it
brok’s covered in fur — what is he, a toller?
cum with boiling water — i’m a boiler
i got lots of proxies — call me a decoder
[bridge]
my soul’s wounded, and the wounds are torn open
i got belgian roots — i shoot like a nagant
white like sour cream, i don’t f*ck with dumbasses
why the f*ck i’m rappin’ like kizaru in detroit?
[verse 2]
and i blew up, i’m in a tank on a field now
got slammed hard — i felt the power of concrete
on this album i’ll steal babytron’s flow
wanna get me a lil n*gga, might steal one from the hospital
only goats with me — call me a milkmaid
i chop jerk beats — call me an angle grinder
i got worms in me — use me for fishing
everyone’s trippin’ hard — call me a cigarette
if it’s about scammin’ — call me a gypsy
how much time passed, but no punk style yet
brok p*ssed me off — i popped like a can
i got so f*cked up, i woke up in sri lanka (meeeh)
[outro]
i’m a stretchy concept — like a zipper (eeeh)
these bros from georgia — they dance lezginka (aaah)
i’m like a feminist — i fight for women’s rights (aaah)
i got tons of crack in me — i call myself “medicine” (eyyy)
shot up hard — i’m like a vaccine
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