Armani - Merika lyrics

[Verse 1: Alex Rod] I take my shirt to the cleaners Iron out my socks, have your girl scrub my penis Iron out the routes on my first tour maybe Maybe she can get it if she talk to Miss Daisy Hold up lemme finish doing dishes, scrubbin' gravy I'm outchea, I'm movin', it's just another day (day) MIA through DC, cut a left through Houston See your mami in LA, guess who let her loose kid It's that DOA, f** you talkin' ROD See me in the Bay smokin' on that good tree Sippin' good, get my bourbon from the country My leg stanky see they call me Mr. Funky My stack bankin' I been movin' to the capital Mami name Virginia she be movin' with an a**hole (An a**hole?) Damn, damn, damn I'm such an a**hole But ya man gotta feed his whole fam doe I understand yo, hustle for ya livin' Cut a rock and pick a spot, it's called drug dealin' Half of what or not I'm spittin' d** to IV them Gutter spots and trouble blocks, right across from upper lots Getcha man or getcha pop, walkin' with your son or not Just to have another shot, thinkin' of them off the top I'm cruisin' up the block, thinkin' of a name A city breaks a man, not the b**h upon his chain I bang on 'em, been movin', been groovin' Man I been coolin', the kahuna the co-coon of the retro to let go And let flow the tempo, somewhere in this b**h I'm gonna find my own rental Until then I'm gonna stop and take a rest yo (I take a rest yo) [Verse 2: Armani] Yeah, been on my grind since baby times Just a reminder, I been breakin' bricks I'm in that state of mind Shout out to my old hoes, now they got them cold sheets Power circle all official and you know my clothes reek 10 Deep, I bend freaks k**in' em, deadbeats Feelin' this, I'm feelin' that I got this game up on my back Snap a chain up off yo' a** Like Michael Caine I'm servin' cats Scratch that, Batman Got 'em hooked, crack-man Picture perfect I prescribe the pyrex Watch 'em lurkin' from behind my fly specs Got 'em t**n' they behinds like Cyrus I been eatin' these n***as can't even digest Might crash your Lambo, with all these chains on my neck they call me Djan-go I'm comin' solo, C-Note, or a hundo, but remember takes two kids to tan-go (bango)