1.Long Live A$AP
Lyricist：Michael MuleIsaac De BoniFrank RomanoLaura Jane
LowtherJames SchefferRakim MayersRico Love
Writer(s)：Michael MuleIsaac De BoniFrank RomanoLaura Jane
LowtherJames SchefferRakim MayersRico Love
I thought I'd probably die in prison, expensive taste in women
Ain't had no pot to piss in, now my kitchen full of dishes
Nose bloody from that sniffin', your heroin addiction
Trigger finger itchin' fuck parental supervision
This be that murder business, little Timmy got that semi
I ain't kidding hide yo kittens, hit yo children with that Smith
and
A bunch of ignant little niglets, hard headed, never listen
Purple sippin', finger twistin', teeth glisten like it's Memphis
A bunch of hypocritic Christians, the land of no religion
My Santa Clause was missin, catch you slippin' then it's
Christmas
Motherfuck a wishlist, my ghetto was ambition
For my benjis and my Bentley, and them bitches now I gets gets
On the road to riches, a diamond rings, designer jeans
Toking on that biscuit til I'm no longer existing
I wonder if they miss me, as long as I make history
Now soul is feeling empty, tell the reaper come and get me
Who said you can't live forever lied
Of course, I'm living forever I'll
Forever, I'll live long
You can't ever deny
My flaws, I'm living forever I'll
Forever, I'll
Live
Riding through your city like that mutherfucka mine
Or toking on that semi, rob a muthafucka blind
License plate say wipe me down, car from 1989
But a nigga sits so pretty call that muthafucka fine
Lost your motherfucking mind, what's on your mind niggas talking
down
Never talk to caops, make him talk to God when I tote that 9, he
ain't talking now
Tell em watch your spine, I mean watch your back
Better guide your track, better not look back
Now stay in line, don't step on cracks
So you break her back I'm talking bout your mom
Cause there's killers in my town, making hits, sniffing lines
Out committing crimes, wait for shit to simmer down
Corrupted little minds, 8 and 9, finna shine
On the grind, do you dirty with that shimmy shimmy ya
Where they shoot without a purpose, services and hearses
Kids who ain't deserve it, can't survive a thing, you're
worthless
Strangers make me nervous, who's that peekin' in my window with
a pistol to my curtains？
Who said you can't live forever lied
Of course, I'm living forever I'll
Forever, I'll live long
You can't ever deny
My flaws, I'm living forever I'll
Forever, I'll
Live
Pretty nigga rich, Flacko be the shit
And that bitch, know we poppin' so she poppin' on his dick
Nigga RIP to Pimp, can't forget Little Flip
And I take it out to Memphis so shout out to Triple Six
Who said you can't live forever lied
Of course, I'm living forever I'll
Forever, I'll live long
You can't ever deny
My flaws, I'm living forever I'll
Forever, I'll
Live
2.Goldie
Lyricist：Chauncey HollisRakim Mayers
Writer(s)：Chauncey HollisRakim Mayers
I said it must be cause a nigga got dough
Extraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold
Hoes at my show they be strippin' off they clothes
And them college girls write nigga name on they toes
Niggas talk shit til they get lockjaw
Chrome to ya dome til ya get glockjaw
Part like a cowboy or a rockstar
Everybody play the tough guy til shit pop off
Let's take it to the basis, you in the midst if greatness
My Martin was a Maison, rocked Margielas with no laces
Cristal go by the cases, wait hold up that was racist
I would prefer the Aces, ain't no different when you taste it
A 40 ounce to chase it, that's just a understatement
I'm early to the party, but my Rari is the latest
Somehow it seems girls in they late teens
Remind me you favorite jeans cause they naked cause you famous
Life's a muthafucka ain't it？ These other rappers anus
So tell me what your name is, I'mma tell it to my stainless
You aim it fore you bang it let that banger leave you brainless
It's just me, myself, and I and muthafuckas that I came with
Miscellaneous niggas wanna hate on me
Until I tell em to they face they ain't no G
Low key, niggas mad cause I'm smooth puffin Zig Zags
Tell em quit the riff raff bitchin with your bitch ass
I said it must be cause a nigga got dough
Extraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold
Hoes at my show they be strippin' off they clothes
And them college girls write nigga name on they toes
Niggas talk shit til they get lockjaw
Chrome to ya dome til ya get glockjaw
Part like a cowboy or a rockstar
Everybody play the tough guy til shit pop off
Yes I'm the shit, tell me do it stink
It feel good wakin' up, some money in the bank
Three model bitches, cocaine in the sink
And I'm so bout it bout it, I might roll up in a tank
Cause my chain came from Cuba, got a lock up on the link
And them red bottom loafers just to compliment the mink
Eyes chink, rollin up that dank, blowin' on that stank
What you mean？ Tell me what you drink, I'm on that kissin' pink
You could call me Billy Gates, got a crib in every state
Man on the moon, got a condo out in space
Open up you legs, tell me how it taste
And them niggas talkin' shit so tell em, 'Tell it to my face'
Tell that bitch, hop up on my dick, rolled up on her quick
In a six, told her suck a dick, moterboat her tits
I'm the shit, niggas mad cause I'm smooth puffin' Zig Zags
Tell em quit the riff raff bitchin with your bitch ass
Hoes at my show they be strippin' off they clothes
And them college girls write nigga name on they toes
Niggas talk shit til they get lockjaw
Chrome to ya dome til ya get glockjaw
Part like a cowboy or a rockstar
Everybody play the tough guy til shit pop off
3.PMW(All I Really Need)
Lyricist：Quincy Matthew HanleyTyler WilliamsRakim MayersNikhil
Seetharam
Writer(s)：Quincy Matthew HanleyTyler WilliamsRakim MayersNikhil
Seetharam
All I think about is life, nights, sippin' on Sprite
Little codeine, nigga get throwed right
Two blonde dykes wanna kiss all night
I just pray to God that the shit go right
Little arguments in their fists don't fight
Fuck a dog ho and the bitch gon bite
ASAP nigga, sip Cris all night
So them R Kelly hoes get pissed on twice
Damn, how a young nigga get so nice？
Young nigga cold like he sittin on ice
Fuck broke, tryin to be rich all life
I could've been a criminal and just rolled dice
My nuts hangin', my top back
Hoes screamin' that Pac back
Throwin' westside, bandana ties
ASAP life, gotta Pac tat
Harlem world my whole block strapped
Hoes all on my jock strap
My whip white but my top black
And my bitch white, but my cock black
Purple drink got that
Tell these hoes all to twerk somethin
So shawty she a stunna, and daddy he a runna
Be that pretty muthfucka, you could call me what you wanna
Cause I'm in love with that ass, she in love with the cash
So she shakin it fast and them makin them stacks
And I'm talkin it back and I'm takin her back
To the house just to bust in her mouth and I'm kickin her out
How bout me and you and you and I
Take a ride to make this high
On and on and on and on
On and on and on and on
So I say
Pussy, money, weed
Pussy, money, weed
Pussy, money, weed
That's all a nigga need
(Schoolboy Q)
It's ASAP Q, where the bread at？
Fuck around and bring the hush puppies back
She fuck me and the homies, she was cool with that
The block hot so I'm shaded in my bucket hat
Pause a little bit, I got a little advice
If you fucked her once, then you could fuck her twice
And don't get head form hoes with overbites
Just giving out game, nigga, show you right
Born stunna nigga, turn night to bright
High as a kite in my Nike Flights
Made thirty racks it was just a flight
Flew a bitch out too, it was just a night
Shorty got the booty make a nigga say, 'Woah'
Can I suck your titties, tryin' to see how far can I go
Try again and then again, and she ain't tellin' me no
Sweetie tell me how you feelin', can i feel on you mo？
She said, 'I ain't fuckin' for free', but ain't shit I can't
afford
Shit, I'll pay you for ir
Now bounce that ass hon my bungie cord
Uh, yeah, whoopsie daisy
Put a good kid in your Section.80
Turn a baby into a lady
Now here go the keys to my new Mercedes
Cause shawty she a stripper
All you got to do is tip her
She got ballers with some money
When you fuck them other niggas
Now do A though Z for a G
Panties go down to her feet
Pussy get wetter for me
Smackin that ass to the beat
Give her that Diggity D
How bout me and you and you and I
Take a ride to make this high
On and on and on and on
On and on and on and on
So I say
Pussy, money, weed
Pussy, money, weed
Pussy, money, weed
That's all a nigga need
4.LVL
Lyricist：Rakim MayersMichael Volpe
Writer(s)：Rakim MayersMichael Volpe
Mister Pistol Popper, flocko locked and loaded
Life's a bitch and she pussy pop (know why？) cause I got her
open
That pussy soakin', fuck is you promotin'
Yea, you claim you rage, you hatin' like you live in Oakland
I'm ride town, niggas with the roof back
Introduce you niggas to a new swag
Make you say a nigga grew up too fast
Fuck I'm supposed to do with all this new ass
Fuck I'm supposed to do with all this new cash
Thousand dollar draws just to hold my balls
All I ever do is let my jewels sag
Pac gone, but the juice back
Her your popcorn, juice, snacks
It's a movie nigga, with a new cast
Get the news flash, that the truth back
This is boom bap, mixed with new raps
Look at all the niggas that I blew past
Hood by air, to the do-rag
Nigga make way for the new jacks
It's Mister Pistol Popper screaming 'fuck a copper'
I just bought a crispy choppa finna fuck yo block up
Even cracked the pavement that's for niggas hatin'
I been patiently waiting to show you niggas Satan
All this talk of Illuminati ain't got a clue about me
Bitch I'm Trill-Maluminati and hot my crew behind me
Shootas round me, keep them looters round me
Keep a tool around me, it'll keep you fools from round you
Couple of them dudes surround me with a gat
Wit a strap in a backpack
When they cap cap, leave you flat, better back back
On a fast track, ratatat, nigga that's that
Nigga pass that, finna ash, where that hash at
Got a Kat Stacks with a ass, finna smash that
Make em cash that, ASAP then I pass that
Off to my niggas then she ask, 'Where the cash at？'
I see dead people, I need dead people
Lord Pretty Flacko, bitch I behead people
Kneel and kiss the ring, all hail the king
Long live ASAP, put that on everything
5.Hell
Lyricist：Santi WhiteRakim MayersMichael Volpe
Writer(s)：Santi WhiteRakim MayersMichael Volpe
We use to wear rugged boots not it's all tailored suits
Audemars Piguets for my criminal recruits
Champagne flutes, bumpin' rhythm and blues
My partner made bad moves, he might end up in the news
Or end up in the tombs or living in the boondocks
Riding by the rules I'll abide by it soon
See the situation we sophisticated goons
I know you live by the gun then you die by it too
Niggas call me prophecy, swaggin and philosophies
White on white wagon, call that motherfucka Socrates
Rat ass niggas, fighting for a block of chees
Catch me out in China stunting yea I'm about my guapanese
My shoe game serious, so serious, wapanese
Niggas say I'm blessed my bad I forgot to sneeze
There your reasons go bitch
I got some tissues for your issues tell em blow this
(Sanitgold)
People money walk, straight ahead now
They countin' everyday down
Hittin' on me long
You know your way, where you headin' now？
Me, I want everything
It won't take me long
People money walk, straight ahead now
They countin' everyday down
Hittin' on me long
You know your way, where you headin' now？
Me, I want everything
It won't take me long
(ASAP)
Roger, roger, tell em roger that
It's the gold teeth, french braids, call me Project Pat
With the stocking cap, Jason mask on, probably strapped
It's the Rocky cap, turn my swag on, holla back
Throw a dollar at a bidd-itch, cause we made it when we did it
Hit it cause they didn't
My mama always told me keep your mind on your money
Boy you better pay attention
Ride with the pretty nigga, woopty, no chauffeur
Paint lookin' like a drippin' smoothy, no coaster
The game's full of posers, big dog bulldozer
Pop up on em like toasters, wake them up like folgers
Cause Heaven need a villain like Hell need a newer idol
You could bet the crib and car, just renew the title
For now I'm po-pimpin like them Do or Die dudes
Smoking killa but my door's suicidal
(Hook)
(Santigold)
It will hit you on the head
You don't even gotta hate me know babe
Just as sheeps get led
You could see where I'm gone
How you gonna feel now？ You know what they say
Really you know that we don't come how we get down
Everyone say 'Rocky ahead'
And you don't really now what is up
No you can't get it wrong
(Hook)
6.Pain
Lyricist：Soufien RhouatRakim MayersKhalid MuhammedJess Willard
Writer(s)：Soufien RhouatRakim MayersKhalid MuhammedJess Willard
Uh, pain
Uh, pain
Uh, pain
(OverDoz)
So big you are, shining like the star
With your head in the clouds, somebody shoot you down
Hands on the ground, back against the wall
Lights, camera, action (x8)
(ASAP)
The future will be televised, haters getting genocide
23 and 43, I'm talkin' my Margiela size
My niggas is hella fly, you over accessorize
Dead, alive, it's in my repertoire, forever ever high
I never lie, never tell a lie, I would testify
Set aside dreams, I'm a king ask Coretta Scott
Cute faced, fat ass, and a nice set of thighs
Rihanna weave, I need a umbrella ella ella uh
(OverDoz)
Everybody knows me, shit, still ain't got no cash
Bitch, hit that flash quick, post my bad habits
Fuck you and your Instagram, match a gram
Royal blue foils, getting head in the red Lambo
Media take me out, TMZ all in the VIP
Bitch I'm hard in my new concrete
Too much boss if you ask me
Almost fucked fame, but she came with money
I got two bad bitches, haters wanna take em from me
(hook)
Tryna get on in the industry, acting like a ruthy
Breaking down cocaine with the EBT
These male groupies, doing it
However, whatever they seeing on the box
Everybody spit, everybody hot
Everybody's an artist (everybody not)
S-O L-O-S-T, niggas talking dollars getting change
In a minute I'mma lose my crew
Well one, give the full 98
Like fuck coach, I'm cutthroat, so what goes？
Do you head for the year they say might be the end？
Better look within
(ASAP)
Glitz and the glamour, we pose for the cameras
Ghetto niggas with me, they pose with the hammers
Ghetto girls with me, pink toes in the sandals
No dirty laundry, get your nose out my hamper
Clothes in my hamper, that bathing ape camouflage
Brands from Japan, you would think I was a samurai
Drop-crotch, Jeremy Scott pants, bitch it's hammer time
Getting dirty money but I keep my hand sanitized
Life is what you need, won't you take a seat, feel the breeze
Smoke the Sour Deeze, hit that shit and please act at ease
What you want to be life the Black Eyed Peas, all these 3's
S-T-A-R-S, that's Hollywood, won't you rest in peace？
So big you are, shining like a star
With your head in the clouds, somebody shoot you down
Hands on the ground, back against the wall
Tell me who you'd call when no one else is around？
7.F＊＊kin' Problems
Lyricist：Aubrey GrahamTauheed EppsRakim MayersKendrick LamarNoah
ShebibS. Garrett
Writer(s)：Aubrey GrahamTauheed EppsRakim MayersKendrick LamarNoah
ShebibS. Garrett
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fuckin problem
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck I got a fuckin problem
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fuckin problem
If finding somebody real is your fuckin problem
Bring ya girls to the crib maybe we can solve it
Hold up bitches simmer down
Takin' hella long bitch give it to me now
Make that thing pop like a semi or a nine
Oh baby like it raw with a shimmy shimmy ya
Huh, ASAP get like me
Never met a motherfucker fresh like me
All these motherfuckers wanna dress like me
Put the chrome to your dome make you sweat like Keith
Cause I'm the nigga, the nigga nigga, like how you figure？
Getting figures and fuckin bitches, she rollin' swishers
Brought her bitches, I brought my niggas, they getting bent up
off the liquor
She love my licorice, I let her lick it
They say money make a nigga act nigger-ish
But at least a nigga nigga rich
I be fuckin' broads like I be fuckin' bored
Turn a dyke bitch out have her fuckin' boys, beast
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fuckin problem
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck I got a fuckin problem
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fuckin problem
If finding somebody real is your fuckin problem
Bring ya girls to the crib maybe we can solve it
I know you love it when this beat is on
Make you think about all of the niggas you've been leading on
Make me think about all of the rappers I've been feeding on
Got a feeling that's the same dudes that we speakin' on, oh
word？
Ain't heard my album？ Who you sleepin' on？
You should print the lyrics out and have a fucking read-along
Ain't a fucking sing-along unless you brought the weed along
Then ju.. (Okay, okay, okay)
Then just drop down and get yo' eagle on
Or we can stare up at the stars and put the Beatles on
All that shit you talkin' bout is not up for discussion
I will pay to make it bigger, I don't pay for no reduction
If it's comin' from a nigga I don't know, then I don't trust it
If you comin' for my head, then motherfucker get to bustin'
Yes Lord, I don't really say this often
But this long dick nigga ain't for the long talking, I beast
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fuckin problem
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck I got a fuckin problem
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fuckin problem
If finding somebody real is your fuckin problem
Bring ya girls to the crib maybe we can solve it
Yeah ho this the finale
My pep talk turn into a pep rally
Say she's from the hood but she live inside in the valley now
Vaca'd in Atlanta, then she going back to Cali
Got your girl on my line, world on my line
The irony I fuck 'em at the same damn time
She eyeing me like a nigga don't exist
Girl, I know you want this dick
Girl, I'm Kendrick Lamar
AKA Benz is to me just a car
That mean your friends need to be up to a par
See my standards are pampered by threesomes tomorrow
Kill 'em all dead bodies in the hallway
Don't get involved listen what the crystal ball say
Halle Berry, hallelujah
Holla back I'll do ya, beast
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fuckin problem
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck I got a fuckin problem
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fuckin problem
If finding somebody real is your fuckin problem
Bring ya girls to the crib maybe we can solve it
8.Wild For The Night
Lyricist：Nicolas VadonThomas ParentDenis LebouvierMickaël
DalmoroJulien PradeyrolRakim MayersSonny Moore
Writer(s)：Nicolas VadonThomas ParentDenis LebouvierMickaël
DalmoroJulien PradeyrolRakim MayersSonny Moore
Wake up feeling blessed
Pistol on that dresser
Ain't afraid to show it, I'll expose it if I dress up
Riding in that Testarossa, nigga catch up
Sipping on that syrup till I'm messed up like yea sir
So now I'm getting change, people looking at me strange
Like nigga switching lanes, never changed, still the same
We fuck bitches, get paper, you fuck niggas on paper
We walk around with lasers, you probably own some tasers
Lame niggas disgrace us, they girlfriends want to date us
Got different hoes, I'm pimpin' hoes
You could tell by my paystubs
My niggas, getting right, smoking weed with dirty Sprite
Going wild for the night, fuck being polite
Finna wild out for the weekend
Me, myself, and I my three friends
Nigga feeling froggy, then leap in, ASAP niggas finna sneak in
Middle finger to the critics, me and my nigga Skrillex
You know we finna kill it, ASAP we the trillest
You don't really want that glock boy
You don't really want to feel them shots boy
You a B boy, I'm a block boy
I'm a D boy, I'm a hot boy
Six shots got me feeling like Pac boy
Party all night, shit don't stop boy
Drunk as fuck and I'm ready to fight
Wildin for the night, fuck being polite boy
(Hook)
Wild for the night, fuck being polite
I'm going...
Wild for the night, fuck being polite
I'm going...
Wild for the night, fuck being polite
I'm going...
Wild for the night, fuck being polite
I'm going...
It's the weekend and I'm creepin with my niggas
Drunk and disrespectful, calling women bitches
I don't mean no harm, but won't you and your friends
Meet us in the cut and we can do business
God my witness that I only wanna kick it
And yo girl just said they with us
So we rolling in them Benzes
Won't you blow it up and stop the babysitting
She got drunk as fuck and swallowed all my kids
Back to the mac, tats on her back
Ass so fat, hit that from the back
When it clap from the back, she clapping it back
She flat on her back and it's back to the track
Fuck yo pack, ASAP where it at
Fuck nigga act, get clap lay flat
Fuck yo dreams, even fuck nigga dream
May you sleep, the you won't come back from the nap
Benjamin 3 stack, it's a fact, she live in my lap
On my out-Outkast, daddy fat, bitches on my sack
And you know them soak and bitches blow and reefer got me open
Wilding to the morning with my homies, tell me where we going
Wild for the night, fuck being polite
I'm going...
Wild for the night, fuck being polite
I'm going...
Wild for the night, fuck being polite
I'm going...
Wild for the night, fuck being polite
I'm going...
9.1 Train
Lyricist：Chauncy HollisJo-Vaugn ScottDaniel SewellAriyan
ArslaniRakim MayersKendrick LamarJustin ScottMichael Wayne
Atha
Writer(s)：Chauncy HollisJo-Vaugn ScottDaniel SewellAriyan
ArslaniRakim MayersKendrick LamarJustin ScottMichael Wayne
Atha
Feeling like a vigilante or a missionary
Tell my A$AP killers get they pistols ready
Send 'em to the cemetary with obituaries
Don't be scared, nigga, is you ready？
I've been thinking 'bout all the O's in my bank account
X the hoes in my bed is 'round the same amount
Ever since this new star fame came about
Or ever since me and Drizzy started hangin' out
Young boy, let his gun bang, let his nuts hang
Transition to a Lamborghini from a Mustang
Drugs slang in the drug game with the hustling
(I know one thing) Anything is better than that 1 train
Bag made of Goyard, cheffin' like I'm Boyar-
Dee, probably selling D in your local courtyard
Braids like I'm O-Dog, my la familia go hard
Down to my inlaws, they outlaws with no laws
We outlawed then I bogart, any pros that got 'proached at
With a toe-tag, get broke off, in the projects with a skateboard
I roll past and I blaze y'all like, 'DOO DOO!' I hate y'all
When the beef cooked, I ate y'all like, 'Mmm mmm,' let's play
ball
In a ballpark with all sharks and a blindfold, I rhyme cold
My K hot, your 9 cold, that bark like K9 drone
That banana clip, straight from the rip
I'll make that shirt say RIP, I'm on some shit
If I'm not the hottest then Hell must've froze over
You thought it was safe then forgot what the code was
I carry traits of a traumatized soldier
Don't look in my face, I might snap, I might choke ya
Spine right out of place, give me dap like you 'posed ta
Darts at your posters, dark nights like this
I metamorph like I'm 'posed ta, I might slice my wrist
Or pretend like a vulture and drop off this cliff
Barely even conscious, talking to my conscience
Gettin' deeper in these flows like conches
I'm on my convict, don't drop bars, I drop prisons
Don't sell rocks seen the spectrum through the prisms
Somehow bypassed the bias and the -isms
The violence and the killin', so given
They seen my pigment and thought that was the ign'ance
Unfortunately I am not that type of niglet
But pass the pot let me skillet
Just got back to the block from a 6 o'clock with Jigga
And I'm thinkin' 'bout signin' to the Roc
But my niggas on the block still assigned to the rocks
And I swear it hurt me soul
I try to prevail, but when I preach it only hurt their sales
Like you're only gon' end up either dead or in jail
But you my nigga, wish you the best for real
When you mention my name amongst other white rappers
Or for that matter, any fuckin' rapper, fuck it
Painter, skater, musician, trailer park dirt ditch diggin'
Burger flippin', eat, sleep, shittin' human bein', you would be
in
Trouble to body double or couple me to these others
Cause comparatively speakin', my reach is beyond the bubble
That they put me in, my vision's beyond the Hubble's
I huddle with Nubians, new beginning again
You in school at 10, late, Radioactive's goin' gold
And so？ GREAT. Do I give a flying duck
If I'm applyin' love to my rhymin' plus alignin' us？
Alabama's climbin' up, wait, no I don't give a
Flying duck, nothing but a buckshot, Ch, pow!
Motherfuck your life, pussy blood clot
Ain't never been no rapper this cold since 2Pac was froze
And thawed out for spot date at a Coachella show, Yelawolf
Weed a different color like a hoodrat bra and panties
And my flow be overhead like pots and pans in pantries
Antsy cause I'm high like Michael Jackson penny loafers
Moonwalkin' on the sun, barefoot, with shades on
Bitch pussy smell like a penguin
Wouldn't hit that shit with my worst enemy's penis
Bitch when I say this I mean this： 'Ho, I'm the meanest'
Dick so big, stretch from Earth to Venus
That molly got me nauseous, on shit, no off switch
Lawless, obnoxious, on that 'suck my cock' shit
That is my synopsis, ostrich pot shit
Hoes on some God shit, stop it! You not this!
Novice, regardless, heartless and awkward
Cryin' tears of vodka prima donna at the concert
Adonis smokin' chronic 'bout to vomit gin and tonic
Just bein honest, tell me, isn't that ironic？
Swiftly, I shift the Bimmer 860
A heavy smoker so you know I brought the Blake with me
The moon's reflection off the lake hit me
You should've stayed with me
Now many Asian bitches lay with me
The face is silky like a tablecloth
My shorty gallop in the morning on the beach like a Chilean
horse
Red roses drop on boxes very often
Confetti torture, drinking Henny like I'm Kenny Lofton
Outstandin'
I fixed the game between Georgia Southern and Grambling
You see us scrambling, selling Susan Sarandon
The cloud of smoke like the phantom
Damn this shit tastes like fantastic
You see me comin' through in each state
Just so the lord could put the fork inside the cheesecake
Cuffed to my wrist I've got the briefcase
The gavel slam, I'm a free man, try not to eat ham
Big KRIT, shawty
Spit like my last breath： casket rap, six deep
Eyes closed, the black is back, out come the 'Lac with flats
After that, bottles I can't pronounce, like,How you ask for
that？
Why you ask for crack and all you had was scratch？
All I had was rap, when all they had was wack
All I wanted was love, all they had was doubt
Fuck them haters and fuck them hoes and cherish your wins
The aftermath, ask LeBron, open palm slap a bitch
Walk the plank or break a bank, I've been in the business of
sinkin' ships
Chokin' niggas out with the anchors that they anchor with
Resuscitations cost the label, I'm taxing if you want a hit
Clear, fuck your career, bitch, I was born here
Been a killer, ...86er, nigga, that's my born year
Get the fuck from ...round here, that's just my country ways
Suckin' on your momma's titty, bitchin' while I was choppin'
blade
Grippin' grain, fuckin' hoes, candy paint like Everglades
Miss me with that rapper chatter, take that shit up with my bass
I put that on my sub, how could you ever doubt me？
Most rappers hoping the world end so they won't have to drop
another album
B.B. King saw the king in me, so why can't you？
In order to come up close, you'll have to dig up Cash and Elvis,
too
Muddy water flow, Dixie rebel past
Fuck your Louis flag, popping benji tags on your wifey's ass
That's out of line, but in living color？
I'm more like Miya Bailey on you rap motherfuckers, a true
artist
10.Fashion Killa
Lyricist：James LaurenceDylan ReznickTerius NashRakim
MayersChristopher StewartHector Delgado
Writer(s)：James LaurenceDylan ReznickTerius NashRakim
MayersChristopher StewartHector Delgado
Her pistol gold
Her pistol gold,
Her pistol gold,
I said her pistol gold,
Cause she a fashion killa, and I'm a trendy nigga
I said her pistol gold,
Her pistol gold,
I said her pistol gold,
Cause she a fashion killa, and I'm a jiggy nigga
I said
Rockin', rollin', swaggin' to the max
My bitch a fashion killa, she be busy poppin' tags
She got a lotta Prada, that Dolce ＆ Gabanna
I can't forget Escada, and that Balenciaga
I'm sippin' purple syrup, come be my Aunt Jemima
And if you is a rider, we'll go shoppin' like mañana
Her attitude Rihanna, she get it from her mama
She jiggy like Madonna, but she trippy like Nirvana
Cause everything designer,
Her jeans is Helmut Lang, shoes is Alexander Wang
And her shirt the newest Donna, Karan
Wearin' all the Cartier frames
Jean Paul Gaultiers cause they match with her persona
Her pistol gold,
Her pistol gold,
I said her pistol gold,
Cause she a fashion killa, and I'm a trendy nigga
I said her pistol gold,
Her pistol gold,
I said her pistol gold,
Cause she a fashion killa, and I'm a jiggy nigga
I said
I said I see your Jil Sanders, Oliver Peoples
Costume National, your Ann Demeuelemeester
See Visvim be the sneaker, Lanvin or Balmain
Goyard by the trunk, her Isabel Marant
I love your Linda Farrow, I adore your Dior
Your Damir Doma, Vena Cava from the store
I crush down with that top down, boys see how I ride 'round
Mami in that Tom Ford, Papi in that Thom Browne
Rick Owens, Raf Simons, boy she got it by the stock
She ball until she fall, that means she shop until she drop
And Versace： got a lot, but she may never wear it
But she save it so our babies will be flyer than their parents
Her pistol gold,
Her pistol gold,
I said her pistol gold,
Cause she a fashion killa, and I'm a trendy nigga
I said her pistol gold,
Her pistol gold,
I said her pistol gold,
Cause she a fashion killa, and I'm a jiggy nigga
I said
Scoop back tees, breeze in the coupe
Smiling is your treasure, you're so well put together
I see bags and rings, jeans and shoes
Spikes and patent leathers if the fabric makes you different
You be me, me be you
Go away together, we could get away forever
All emotions clashing, thrashing, someone turned the light out
I'm at my baby, stretched my passion, on my fashion night out
Her pistol gold,
Her pistol gold,
I said her pistol gold,
Cause she a fashion killa, and I'm a trendy nigga
I said her pistol gold,
Her pistol gold,
I said her pistol gold,
Cause she a fashion killa, and I'm a jiggy nigga
I said her pistol gold
11.Phoenix
Lyricist：Rakim MayersBrian Burton
Writer(s)：Rakim MayersBrian Burton
Bloody ink on my pad spelled suicide
Michael Jackson even passed cause you scrutinized
Fuck illuminati lies, say I'm lucified
Baptised in the gutter, motherfucker you decide
Cause the ride come with doors that be suicide？
Or the thighs on my whores, they be super-sized？
Good and bad happen, wars, nigga chose a side
Now all hail to the Lord like you do to God
Who am I？
Lord Flacko
Painting vivid pictures, call me Basquiat Picasso
Capo Head Hancho, now my following's colossal
Ain't no boxer, Pacquiao, but got the chopper en todo caso
It's like you heard, God spoke
I've seen the ghetto gospel
The choir like my reefer and the preacher got my eyes low
Shits to Mary Jane to make me see from singing high notes
The bible or the rifle...goodnight folks
Bloody ink on my pen spelled suicide
Kurt Cobain even died cause you scrutinize
It's a fine line between truth and lies
Jesus Christ never lied, still was crucified
That's why I never judge another nigga
Life's a bitch, but that bitch in love with other niggas
3 to a bed, sheets, no covers nigga
Dirty kitchen, no supper in the cupboards nigga
Sucker niggas, wassup my niggas
So my new attitude is like 'Fuck the niggas!'
I grew up with niggas but don't fuck with niggas
I don't trust them niggas, ain't got no love for niggas
Had the gold grills shining like them southern niggas
Kept it trilla, now the whole world fuckin' with us
Meanwhile you treated all of us like other niggas
Now your world is in my palm, take cover niggas
I shall ever pour, Lord pick me up
Ever since a baby, two tussin sippy cups
Ever since them diapers and my zip-me-ups
Now I'm walking on my own, y'all, wish me luck
Where do we lie？
Tell me where do we stand？
Where do we go？
It's all part of the plan
12.Suddenly
Lyricist：Tyshaun HollowayRakim MayersHector Delgado
Writer(s)：Tyshaun HollowayRakim MayersHector Delgado
I swear this famous shit just happened overnight
For sure these hoes was so uptight, but now they so polite
All I see is fake love, smiles, and overbites
But I'm pimpin' nigga, Dolemite
I remember when, I was like ten, maybe nine
Ricky had a deuce-deuce two shotty pumps with a baby nine
Busta had the rhymes, Puffy had the Shyne
Bone thugs had more thugs but that was the shit, that made me
rhyme
Wassup, what's on your mind？ Hol' up, I'm feeling fine
Locs got me blind, thuggin' like I'm Eazy-E up in his prime
Another young nigga with a attitude
I guess that's why the crackers kept me after school
Roaches on the wall, roaches on the dresser
Everybody had roaches but our roaches ain't respect us
On the park bench playing checkers, sipping nectar
Girbaud jeans with hologram straps and reflectors
We had cookouts and dirt bikes and dice games and fist fights
And fish fries and shootouts like one SIG with two rounds
And pne click left two down, that's four kids but one lived
Left three dead, but one split, that one miss, that one snitch
That's everyday shit, shit we used to that
Add it up, do the math with your stupid ass
Don't view me as no conscious cat, this ain't no conscious rap
Fuck the conscious crap, my mac'll push your conscience back
I do this for my culture, penny, nickels in the sofa
Mommy watching Oprah, daddy in the kitchen whipping soda
Cook, connect, named Sosa, Spanish chick by Ola hit it in the
chocha
With the Testarossa, hit Daytona, fuck the law, we soldiers
I'm bout it bout it, nigga ain't shit sweet about me
The baddest bitches on the block be even speakin' bout me
I'm so thuggish ruggish bringin' ruckus, knuckin' if you buckin'
Young and thuggin', buggin' showing out in public, but you love
it
I only got one vision, that's for kids in every color, religion
That listen, that you gotta beat the system, stay the fuck out
the prisons
They try to blind our vision, but we all got children and
siblings
You my brother, you my kin, fuck the color of your skin
Back once again
Chilling in the back of the 'Lac with a pass of the gin
Finna ask can I pass to her friend,
Then a nigga smash, I'll be damned if I ask her again
Gold slabs on the 'Lac when I spin,
Then it's back to the back of the Benz,
Lean back in the back with the Henn
And a crap when I tap that that then attack,
Never tax, never that that, max on the ends
Spend ends, I remember way back when,
A motherfucker used to have to borrow cash from my friends,
friends
Just to put a snack up in the fridge
When I'm on, I swear to God to pay you back
Now the kids all look up to me, them bitches wanna fuck with me
My idols say what's up to me, from ugly to comfortably
Suddenly
It all changed man
It was just like yesterday
Times was so ugly
And now I'm comfortable
I just only can thank God
Suddenly
Everything changed before my eyes
By my surprise
A$AP
13.Jodye
Lyricist：Rakim MayersJoey Fatts
Writer(s)：Rakim MayersJoey Fatts
Bitch motherfuckers trying to fake it trill
Sneak diss you just to make a bill, now the world won't take you
serious
When I met you, you was painting nails
Leave a motherfucker layin' still, bang him with the stainless
steel
Cause I'm making the order
Laugh at the altar, pullin' a Lord up
Don't get someone sawed up
Your brain in a sawdust, niggas is washed up
I bang out in Florida
Streets of Miami, goons out in Georgia
Been to New Orleans
But still a New Yorker, nigga the talk of
Town, nigga we bossed up
Bounce, but when you talk to the Lord
Of course you're forced to
Bow down like a motherfuckin' peasant
Still that pretty motherfucker
And you know Harlem's what I'm reppin' nigga
Fuck them other niggas 'cause I'm down for my niggas
Fuck them other niggas 'cause I'm down for my niggas
Fuck them other niggas, I'll ride for my niggas, I'll die for my
niggas
Man, fuck them other niggas!
Please talk to me lord, I am here for you lord
Gettin' faded, hair gettin' braided
Sophie sniffed a line of ye
Playin' spades, bumpin' Jimi Hendrix 'Purple Haze'
A 40 to the face, call my homies from around the way
Give me that pussy, I'll be on my way
But grab the jimmy so the bitch don't get no cash up out me
Pretty nigga, I'm a jiggy nigga, ask about me
Fuck niggas talkin' trash about me
But you know I toke a gauge, it can make any problem go away
Talkin' Jay, talkin' Ye, that mean you niggas talkin' cray
Razor blade across your face, I fix my face then walk away
I guess then there's nothin' more to say
Trill nigga to the death, whether Hell or the pearly gates
I think back to my early days
Whippin' and pinchin' that broad dough
It's a bit different now, switchin' and flippin' that raw flow
Substance get me higher, reefer and some fire
The devil is a liar, biased preachers shall retire
Jesus walked on water, I'm preachin' to the choir
Long live A$AP, now bow to your Messiah, bitch!
Let the Lords toast with the Lords
Toast to the Lords
We come Gods, come Lords
Lords! Lords! Lords!
Oh Lord! Toast to the Lords!
As we this day, please pray for us
When comes the saints, comes the evils, brings the Lords
14.Ghetto Symphony
Lyricist：Eddie MontillaTivon KeyRichard Morales, Jr.Darold
FergusonImogen HeapJonathan WilliamsRakim MayersAllan
SigsworthPeter Chill
Writer(s)：Eddie MontillaTivon KeyRichard Morales, Jr.Darold
FergusonImogen HeapJonathan WilliamsRakim MayersAllan
SigsworthPeter Chill
A rebel I be one day, on that track with Gunplay
Outkast my whole life so I decide to spit like Andre
Beef is on my entrée, Gin ＆ Juice, that's Bombay
Driving fast the wrong way, I swear life is like a one way
Pussy on a Sunday, fitness on a Monday
My new crib came with a feng shui in my closets like a runway
Come be my fiancée, she fuck me in a Hyundai
My rooftop got a lounge, just sit around and watch her sunbathe
Finna date for 1K, shopping date for 2K
Hoopty ass bitch, made me wait to fuck for 2 days
Finally got the toobey, swear to God my mood changed
Top off like toupees, drive off, touché
Yea my mouth is full of gold and I'm a city boy
And my outfit was in Vogue, I'm a pretty boy
Bounce what？ Flocka tell em holla at a nigga G
Riding on Miami mix, here's my ghetto symphony
Rippin, with me, my mama as a witness
Bitches knickin and lockin up my swishas
Once you blow my whistle, she know it's the swistles
Spread the news, I'm official, now hop out my foreign vessel
Before I get aggressive, forget it, war ready
Already tested, tears and blood invested
Til my cardiac's arrested and my 40 ounces empty
Show me what you owe me and appoint a house with that
Black magic on the ties, only I
Rolling down a lonely mile, phony smile
One, police on me now, still torn
And my chain and my stony dow cheerful
Pain, in it's purest form
Don't complain, I came to reign
From here forth, still lord
So the crib got cleared for us
Burning planes in my airforce
And all I can see is clear porch
Since Rocky spit like Andre I'm gon kill it like Big Boi
These rappers is on my entrée,
You don't like cookies, chips ahoy
Eatin joy when I get annoyed, no cover niggas that I kill for
joy
Either Gunplay, runway, trip avoid
Money get style, my lil fishin boy
Arnold Schwarzeneger, toss a nigga
Like codein mixed with a Roy
Smoke what make a nigga trip collide
What took me how fast, you could grip a 9
Damn, nigga I doubt they tell this my heart
And the motherfuckers come in to cry
You niggas have a sour dipped in wine
Guess that's when a girl sip the white
Pourin liq so I soak in different shine
Tip tipped and toe I miss the sky
My soul get cold, all my niggas died
So and so, niggas live and die
Beneath choose souls you will reside
Rappers getting nailed for this freakin life
Tryina come with this for their freakin lives
How many time your eyes and a nigga died？
Never!
Spittin it like a Beretta, nobody do it better nigga
15.Angels
Lyricist：Imogen HeapRakim MayersClarence ConnorDayquan
DavisSolomon Davis
Writer(s)：Imogen HeapRakim MayersClarence ConnorDayquan
DavisSolomon Davis
Ten gold chains, wood grain propane
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang
I'm the dope mane bitches sniffin' cocaine
All my young niggas know that they could all weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
If, if, if you see me trucking bitch
They call me young drug dealer
They call me young thug nigga
24 karats my slugs glitter
24 years old worth a couple million
Shouts out to my cuz' niggas
Finna' let it fly for my blood niggas
Middle finger up to you fuck niggas
If you a trill nigga, then fuck wit' us
Nigga dash like a speed of a bullet
Wit' a pistol on him prolly' wouldn't even pull it
Heart made of puddin' mean muggin' wit' a hoodie
Like what's goodie
Tryin' to be the motherfucker that you couldn't
Knowin' you
Down to let it fly when I shouldn't
All my young niggas they gon' rep it to the fullest
Tell a fuck nigga be you fuck tough be cool
All the young niggas in crew they down to let it fly
For a nigga like me, young nigga like me
They let it fly
For a nigga like me, young nigga like me
They let it fly
For a nigga like me, young nigga like me
They let it fly
For a nigga like me, jiggy young like me
(Hook)
Niggas got rips in they jeans man I started that
Hood by air man I started that
Niggas claim they the God of black
Well your name is purple I'm the God of that
Gave you my back nigga' pardon that
Fuck that shit I brought mobbin' back
I brought robbin' back, I brought the Garden back
Motherfuck black land I brought Harlem back
Rollin' in my Benzo
Hoes on the curb a couple of friends
Rollin down my window
Yo whats the word, fuck it get in
Ride round wit' these bimbos
She give head to my kin folk
Shout outs my connect tho'
Keep a watch out for them Winslows
Cause' the boys gon' creep
D-boys gone' serve
Hoes gone skeet and the V gone swerve
Imma' get by while the world gon' turn
Imma' get mine like you gon' get yours
Niggas do the least do when the piece got nerve
Niggas in the streets when the heat got burned
(Bridge)
(Hook)
16.I Come Apart
Lyricist：John StephensFlorence WelchAmanda GhostEmile HaynieRakim
Mayers
Writer(s)：John StephensFlorence WelchAmanda GhostEmile HaynieRakim
Mayers
(ASAP Rocky)
I thought you said you'd never leave
I think back as I took a puff
Know what happens every time you leave？
Always come back, cause you wanna fuck
Always come back, cause you wanna fuss
Holding back, ain't no turning back when you fall in love
Know it happens everytime you speak
Always fall flat cause you on the rush
Uh, so you can take it slow
Separate the highs from the low
Separate the evens from the odds
Like something pull me back together when I come apart
(Florence Welch)
I come apart, and you keep it together
I come apart, and I can't stand the pressure
In all your grace and fire for me, that I cannot compare
I come apart, this can't last forever
Can't last forever
Can't last forever
(ASAP Rocky)
I woke up today, I felt a little less pressure for me
And I mean to say I, may you even learn the lesson for me
If you find the way to fight the pain,
If you fly away, you rest assure
(Florence Welch)
I come apart, and you keep it together
I come apart, and I can't stand the pressure
In all your grace and fire for me, that I cannot compare
I come apart, this can't last forever
Can't last forever
You're the eye, but I'm tearing all the time
Always there to catch me, but I'm never coming down
Reconstructing all the pieces I left in my way
I guess you know, in control
Chaos I create
I come apart
(ASAP Rocky)
You made a bet with me, now you're in debt with me
Made my bed, lied in it, then you slept with me
It's ruthless, she the closest thing next to me
The truth is, that she blew it and you left with me
Especially hard to express to me
European attitude but born in West Philly
She just have a smokin' 'gina, where the Wet Willies？
I come apart, I'm in her heart on the left titty
(Florence Welch)
I come apart, and you keep it together
I come apart, and I can't stand the ？ressure
In all your grace and fire for me, that I cannot compare
I come apart, this can't last forever
Can't last forever
Can't last forever
Can't last forever
I come apart
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