Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Arigato, artist - Rejjie Snow. Date of issue: 03.11.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Arigato |
| I know where I’m from, I got it from a textbook |
| The Negro, the Spiritual Son, close to my sketchbook |
| We stepped off the ledge, held hands with our souls twice |
| The death so black, you see the mamba, my snakebites |
| This game got played, the prophets got split |
| Spilt the ashes up in space, lu-look, the sun’s face |
| It’s gonna be a good day up under the elm tree |
| The crunch got a sweet tooth snacking the kid clean |
| For those still stunned, left a crumb but my nose clean |
| My snow too pure, and that’s my heart when you speak mean |
| Bagging up sweets, uh-na-uh-na-uh |
| Serving milk for the treats, lu-look, the sun speaks |
| Lu-look |
| Lu-look! |
| Arigato |
| It’s a stick-up |
| Cartoon lunch dates, the kid’s up |
| Your Timbuktu troops shoot |
| Put your hands up, freeze! |
| They stole all our jewels |
| Grab my sword up and leave |
| So last week I shot a rapper, but the manager fleed |
| He grew strong, then he returned and demanded I leave |
| This rap game on a fidget, duck, you quacking your beak (Arigato) |
| The crusades, boots marching 360 degrees |
| The cheque’s never really bigger if they picking their feet |
| My cheek dimples overgrazing, dark twitches deplete |
| The stealth and the heat and drama that’s free |
| You get rock-a-bye, you the Balboa in me |
| Sheesh! |
| Arigato |
| Bada boom, bada bing |
| Just tryna sing |
| So let me spit it |
| My spiritual indigenous and naughtiest spittle |
| Without provisionals |
| The flow is so original |
| This shit’s a fuckin' miracle |
| You don’t like it, but the flow is too immaculate |
| I’m still running, but the pigs ain’t catching shit |
| Slug tippin' and dippin' your Caesar salad dip |
| Been talkin' with the slang of a villain |
| Until I’m coughing piss |
| Coughing piss and I’m munching up on a rapper’s dish |
| Two gold chains and some playground raps, dude |
| Six gold teeth and some sticker-pack tattoos, yeah |
| What the birds see the villains do |
| These dudes play happy until I smack 'em with the pedestal |
| Penultimate decision was the buki and the Seven Rebels |
| And dissect the intellect for what he made clever |
| The speech you believe will make you sing bada boom, bada bing |
| Smacking off his bling |
| Preaching to my mistletoe |
| Long John Silvers and some crook teeth |
| Grimy like the blackest Mandingo |
| So when she’s licking off the liquor on my lips |
| Seven shades blacker, Uncle Genie with the wish |
| Smuggling the sediments, the bar from the rich |
| Speak about the ego and you’ll end up in a ditch, snitch |
| Brownie fudge smudge, muck |
| Handsome little fucker, on the stage I spit wise |
| And that’s word to my mother |
| And my sisters and my brothers' brothers |
| So |
| Hmm |
| I don’t know what to say |
| I’m going insane |
| Up in the membrane |
| I’m going insane |
| Yeah |
| Yo |
| Yeah |
| Yo |
| Bada boom, bada bing, smacking off his bling |
| Huh, and I’m just, just tryna sing |
| Yeah |
| Yo |