Lou Sinergy - Emib, Bars & Stuff lyrics

Ayo, I am in a maze full of
Anabolic cardboard cut outs
That liberate electrons through sweat
To then bring Stone Cold stun guns out
"I love my strolls through the woodland but
They proceed to chant 'RUN, FOREST, RUN"
It's that time of the month, bloody
Writers block, lets me get nothing done
Until I bring some life to my oesophagus
Using a sprinkle of coffin dust
Eat on cirrus clouds and cover
The m56 in cotton crumbs
Then spray, through shapeshifting vandalism
Santa's minions puppy eyes
I am thee masochistic masseuse
Pacifist, toy soldier breeder
Analyst of Che Guevara
My shoulders can't take the weight
Of slush puppy thighs
You're just new to the scene
Like Stevie Wonders eyes
It's past tense vision when
I say 'seen' underlined
So, take a stand on subterranean stilts
And skip with your 6 fingers with
Me into some uranium hills

So say it with me emib, Bars & Stuff
Still we're seeing, cretins, in cars
With sluts
Until celebs, want to, party with us
Second spot, is hardly enough (again)
Emib, Bars & Stuff
Still we're seeing, cretins, in cars
With sluts
Until celebs, want to, party with us
Second spot, is hardly enough

So look who's back again
Back to rapping again
Back to passionately practising
The pendragon anthem
Back to fixing my quiff in the mirror
Back to mixing my carbonated
Drinks with liquor back to
Fixating over documentaries of prison
Snapping back to reality back to back
With the man in me
Holding on to this happy meal calorie
It's catastrophic how tangible
Goals liquidise rapidly
And this attire that I'm rocking
Has even got Christopher Kane's
Galaxies gravity dropping
Pray on the 25th December
It's in your stocking
Whilst I pray my girlfriend wears it
Tonight in nothing but stockings
Ironically, solidify your wet dreams
And put through the girl next doors
Windows for being to damn sexy
Amsterdam let me
Suck off your cafe's horticulture
Until my encephalon is empty


Liquid metal pockets, molten lava shrapnel
Plus the puppeteers strings have
Horribly calved my ankles
Life's a deep sea fisherman and he caught me
But, I evacuated like the
Premonitions that taunt me
So now i will bang like
A barrel of boisterous bullets
And choke the next brother when I spit
Out the knots in my stomach
Saturday morning, in the usual state
Slight dementia so
I am asking who is to blame?
Slight dementia so
I am asking who is to blame? Shit
I'll still be writing the lullabies
With the dust off butterflies
Flying out of lucifers cage
I was born crying
So there's no way I will die doing the same
Research your facts before judging my accent
Or, I'll pop
Laxatives in your paracetamol packages
The rhetorical answer is?