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lirik lagu cemetery drive - tanahashi

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[hook ~ whyandotte]
gun to the forehead
a gun to the waist n~gga
momma didn’t die for me to get 2nd place n~gga
man down, tanahashi
i’m the ace n~gga
man down, you’ll never pass me
know your place n~gga
gun to the forehead
gun to the waist n~gga
momma didn’t die for me to get 2nd place n~gga
man down, tanahashi
i’m the ace n~gga
man down, you’ll never pass me
know your place n~gga

[verse one ~ cloud mac]
my grandmother’s brain didn’t rot for me to sit down
my boy didn’t think that a dab would make him seize out
i see him every night, i sit and watch him bleed out
and shadows like to reach out, remind me he don’t breathe now
long life to the wolf pack
if i lose another bury him in a wolf mask
man down tanahashi
man down tanahashi
[verse two ~ teeawgo]
my grandpa’s lungs didn’t shrivel up for me to not use mine
i don’t got all this spit just to give these f~ckers shoeshines
when 7 got 8, that’s when pops bought a new 9
10 out of 10 times, it gets sticky, get the goo gone
f~ck a b~tch on her parents’ futon
remove the emperor’s clothes, it’s time to get my groove on
been pulling out lately, strong “maybe” on a new son
if he’s at all like me, it’s only right that he can’t do wrong
oh god

[hook ~ whyandotte]
gun to the forehead
a gun to the waist n~gga
momma didn’t die for me to get 2nd place n~gga
man down, tanahashi
i’m the ace n~gga
man down, you’ll never pass me
know your place n~gga
gun to the forehead
gun to the waist n~gga
momma didn’t die for me to get 2nd place n~gga
man down, tanahashi
i’m the ace n~gga
man down, you’ll never pass me
know your place n~gga
[verse three ~ miles powers]
cut it clean come cop a gram
bout to pull the pole out
on the ig live like ja morant
c~ck it back then pop his head
momma didn’t raise a suicidal f~ck up, poppa did
i blame it on the trauma
and the drama and the cost of rent
yall weird as f~ck like cosby is
ugly as a christmas sweater
smart as rubbing sticks together
dummy let the pistol wet ‘em
funny now i’m feelin’ out of bounds
drink it down
it’s the brown with ice
it’s the white, homie it’s the weather
you hit it last, i hit it better
we don’t recall the mediocre
feed me smoke or feed me dope
or feed me both ‘em
cd hold ‘em by the scruff, tied ‘em up
swear to god i’m tired i’m done
bron at 38, like how the f~ck?


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