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merika - 2fresh lyrics

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[verse 1: alex rod]

i take my shirt to the cleaners
iron out my socks, have your girl scrub my p-n-s
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-ck 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 -ssh0l- (an -ssh0l-?)
d-mn, d-mn, d-mn i’m such an -ssh0l-
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’ drugs 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-tch 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-tch 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!llin’ em, deadbeats
feelin’ this, i’m feelin’ that
i got this game up on my back
snap a chain up off yo’ -ss
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 twerkin’ they behinds like cyrus
i been eatin’ these n-ggas 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)

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