lirik lagu !reminder! – tanukes
rocky johnson drip
im back on my bullsh*t
yung flex kavana
strapped up full clip
with a lead piranha
p*ssies thinkin sh*t sweet makem leak jemima
musta forgot i was king gotta give a reminder
yall meat ridin b*tches get right back in the grindr
look, i got the belt, they open up packs to throw my rookie card in they binder
they throwin signs up defacin my name, you know ima tear it up and smack em up
tanuki be gettin that money like titty expansion how homie be rackin up
i throw on the mask like kabuki and aim, they turn into hoes how they backin up
i’ll meet yo ass at the junkyard and show up with no weapons and win when we scr*p it up
lil p*ssy * have you lookin like you drakken all black and blue bodied
leave you to the worms cuz my tool too hotty
two naughty b*tches on me been a true hobby
cuz i down 4 barrels like i’m grippin two shotties
gettin rowdy pipin b*tches when i pull up with the roddy
sounding like a monday night i’m gettin raw up in yo thotty
finna treat the p*ssy right cuz im a vet i do it doggy
blades got me choppin i be lookin izanagi
lil b*tches, qudditch out here chasin gold and the snitches
open a cold one and toast to my riches
all about my gear like rich is
they be flexin out but i’ll yall what rich is
me and cypher gang we show up biligerent
k!llin sh*t p*ssy there aint no equivalent
we be deliberately ignorant
shots to yo brain lil homie & now you illiterate
ay now you can’t read, but yall proceed to type sh*t and keep b*tchin
smackin yall up and im dreaming, while still invenstin in the coins
that i thrown in wells that i wish in
chest strapped with inches so shots feel like pinches
b*tches get hungout to dry if they f*ckin w alla my kin and them
bad side b*tch call her cinnamon, spicy but sweet if she seein my dividends
she given me hickeies, john benjamin, she tryna pay for the d*ck, john benjamin
i’m a yung lord, shouts to kez n them
we leavem holey like reverend
alla yall borin yall need salt and pepperin, so don’t push it
or yall gon catch the metal then
don’t f*ck with snitches, boi i woulda gotten away with it too but you p*ssies were meddlin
so we gotta settle it, either i leave with the bag or yall never grow up like i leave ya in neverland
i got a better plan, flame to yo head no pepper anne
cuz when that clock tickin, that crock grippin, you gon catch the hook if you caught slippin
my bank full, my wallet grinnin, iced up, boi my arms frigid, ay, i be rolln cold as f*ck
boi like ice cream truck, you askin for a number 9, well the ice cream tucked
we be raiden all these houses, man this lightning gon’ erupt
say you gettin all that paper but we leave you paper cut, b*tch
ay cypher gang ay
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