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tanuki – guts lyrics


studio looking like shokugeki no soma

yeah i got
guts, like a claymore cuts
spaz on the track go berserk, nuts
lead my army, don’t f-ck with us
rap from inside, that sh-t is guts
f-ck authority, make a fuss
hear him booming so thunder-ous
back it up cause i got guts
i got guts, i got, i got
[verse 1:]
put up your mitts if you tryna swing
we left the hook, so get a right one clean
too high to feel the sting, so i
float till the pigs fly toward the scene
cause they seek the green, but i’m a different fiend
crawling up from infernal regions can’t
hardly see em like the cena meme
blinded by the mainstream latrine, and i
can’t get lost in the dark world ages
slip into the gaps when wolves are out
force my roar onto mark-scorched pages
sipping the sap from the holy spout of the
old oak sages, can’t contain the
ascendancy of the one hundred man slayer
bandits wanna jack my whole regime
but they slice their palm on a piece of paper
ink don’t bleed till the demons of p-wns are
immediately sp-wned by the lips of the guts dude
boy don’t trip i don’t f-ck with the mushrooms
fun guy but i can’t live like a cartoon
jack of all trades
sharp as these spades, heart like diamonds
i had a jackalope phase
my final form could snap a t-tan
attack the mind with the rhymes of highland
fight the guys with the masks of lightning
luchador, who’s more a tyrant
but screams of the dead are kinda frightening


i got guts, i got, i got guts (x4)

[verse 2]
swinging down the metal on the face of the bozos
only player i can never beat, his name is chronos
step up on these kicks i’ll drip your blood on your logos
sh-tty cause i’m white but we in love with the coco
the black night is white as day
still built the beat and spit the curds and whey
call me little miss “f-ck it”
cause little missies call me up and say the same thing
yeah, yeah i got guts
ants in my path can eat my dust
prance on the track leave it under the crust
drop the bouquet by remains of its guts
i got the blueprint now
he a shoe-in now his sentry is up
dispenses wisdom in his cup, with his
fist to your mug and his wrist in the grub
overnight shelter, hole in a tree
ten more holes in the vole by my feet, and the
whole d-mn world is expecting me
ones through tens on a quest for the d and his
soul ain’t free there’s a cost to his godship
stuck at the boss of survival who’s strongest
pilgrimage is the sh-t to be honest
speaks like a prophet, still making profit