Remedee Raps - Accounts (feat. Cali M)
I make the tables turn like a djIt’s a man down no pon di replay
You need to sleep on it, I’ll have u damaged out here like you a member of DK
Now I look good
And I fuck good
If I fucked you, then your luck good
Cus this here that good dick
I bust them rounds out, like hood shit
I Don’t mean to brag
But I’m in my bag
See I’ll Rock a fella then I’ll hit the dash
Ain’t Chris stokes but I’m comin for that ass
Can’t fuck with niggas like Stacey dash
Must be a cop the way I’m killin the streets
I don’t think there’s a rapper alive better than me
I’m bettin on me
I’ll leave ya mans dead on the scene
Now i got ya mans name dead on the screen
I’m dead on the scheme
You cross me you dead when you seen
Ain’t lettin them breathe
You disgust me, Erika D
Beat the shit out you like fleet
Gotta problem we can take it to the streets
We ain’t scared lil nigga like OH OH OH put that on me
Now spit my shit
Talk my shit
Grab that gat
And call my clique
It’s Remedee and Cali M you already know it’s a fucking hit
I got many accounts
I got many bank accounts
Got that type of WOOH
Never heard a check bounce
Stack money, checks
Asking niggas where they bread
Oh they talking shit
Tellem im comin at they necks
Nigga talkin grips
So lets take it to the grips
Guess what I did
Told that nigga suck a dick
I got many accounts
I got many bank accounts
Got that type of WOOH
Never heard a check bounce
Nigga it’s levels
And man I can’t stress it enough, I said Nigga it’s Levels
so you could stop throwing ya pebbles
Hardhead, Rebel
Oh you wanna dance with the devil?
Never back, pedal
Sorry don’t know what to tell you
Pull up to the spot and it’s litty, my 9 and my blicky, aside and it’s in the hand
And if it’s a cost to being a boss, it gotta suck being the middleman
Me? Never that
Get to the breesh I get hella bags
He Say he strapped where his metal at?
I Put a lid on it, that’s hella cap
Wait
Gimme the Benjis, the dimes, coming to collect what’s mine
Tried to be Heir to the throne but got Sent to the back of the lineeee
Fuck it, I’m one in my prime really, I’m one a kind
10 steps ahead, Cali is Never 3 hours behind
Only strange amounts in my bank account
Like I caught a heist and my mask loose
Better meet those deadlines
And never let it be past due
If he don’t oblige then it’s suicide
Get stick up here, Little Rascal
Don’t want a bond with no stocks involved
And I want mine and your half too
I got many accounts, I got many bank accounts
Take your nigga money, every Friday same amount
I want the breesh and I want the yen
I pull up and air a round
I guess it’s forfeit, niggas ain’t on shit
He got his face in the ground
I got many accounts, I got many bank accounts
Take your nigga money, every Friday same amount
I want the breesh and I want the yen
I pull up and air a round
I guess it’s forfeit, niggas ain’t on shit
He got his face in the ground
I see you study my every move so call me beck
When it comes to these bars they can’t pass the test
Both my EPs they charted, i am the very best
Competition is nonexistent give it a rest
Should I expose them lil hoes niggas
They my sons but I never rose niggas
Don’t associate with the Broke nigga
So I turn my head like ion know niggas
Skating on the beat like go figure
See I’m about the money like a gold digger
Hating us’ll get you no figures
It’s Rem & Cal it’s get no bigger
I got many accounts
I got many bank accounts
Got that type of WOOH
Never heard a check bounce
I want the breesh and I want the yen
I pull up and air a round
I guess it’s forfeit, niggas ain’t on shit, He got his face in the ground
Written by:
Corderyl Springs, DeAaron Brown
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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