lirik lagu zoetic – armani
[intro:zoetic]
yea, shout out to ocki, rhill, hippy a, free my brotha bread let’s get it
[verse 1:zoetic]
cha!
armani armani got it on my head and all over my body!
you gas like a saudi, your rhymes are so shoddy, ya style is goddy!
i’m mixin’ the purple and sprite, lookin right, if you wanna take a sip
got lasers on pistols, i don’t need to aim, i just shoot it from the hip!
empty the clip and dip and grip the wheel of the whip and then i make another trip
slow it down, we takin’ aim, hear my homie’s pistol bang
so i do the same thang, try to shoot ’em in the brain
out on bail, in my zone, gettin’ blown like c4
ceo, top dog, gettin crunk off olde english
if you have any doubts, now i bet they are diminished
imma linguist, you a gymnist, got my flows defying physics
so she suckin on my p-n-s like swedish fish in the icee
b-tch i might be, guilty until proven innocent
i’m an american citizen, so why are you acting so insolent?
i go for the dividends, hopped up on stimulants, feelin’ so vigilant
this sh-t is so easy, i’m takin’ a break cause i’m tired of k!llin’ it
….what’d i say?!
fifty thousand for a verse? that’s like three hundred a word
that’s like two hundred and fifty words, bet you half of them’s a curse
all you twerps all rap the worst, bet i’ll make you all disperse
swing batter batter batter, now my pockets gettin’ fatter
when i let the bullets scatter, make you silence all the chatter
talkin all this sh-t drown em out wit the doof doof! and then i’m out like poof poof!
hope ya windows are bulletproof, cause if they’re not then i’m rippin’ out yo f-ckin’ roof
on ya little coop, give my crew a little boost, got my dogs barkin at ya dead body like woof woof!
now i’m back at it, i’m the rap savage, got my wolf pack, call me zach galifinakis
my b-tch is an actress, she’s into high fashion
gucci, fendi, prada, give her meat like lady gaga
eat her enchilada ’till it’s bout to explode, about to bust a load, got her in the bed yellin’ out
grenada!
they say honor thy father! but what if mine’s a problem?
i don’t know mama, i choose marijuana
smokin’ in my pajamas, that’s how i make my genres
i pop all seven chakras, period, colon, comma
and no this ain’t a mantra, but you’re repeating it
like a new fashion trend, that’s how you are treating it
just beat it b-tch, you don’t know who you’re dealing wit, or who you competin’ wit
versace versace, just shut the f-ck up you’re not even a rapper
you started an actor and now you make music you think you’re the master
your career is -ss backwards, a mainstream disaster, you tryna rap faster
it’s easy to make it in this god d-mn game, when you already got money
and you think that you a spitter, make a couple radio hits and they all follow you like twitter
ugh, sayin that word makes me bitter
cause on that social network site, all the white guys be like:
unnh, versace versace but really the truth is i wear abercrombie
no new friends i woke up in a new bugatti
eight gold rings like shabba ranks buddy!
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