Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay
Okay, 'kay, 'kay, 'kay
'Kay, 'kay, 'kay, 'kay
'Kay, 'kay, 'kay, okay
A$AP Rocky, nigga

Pretty Flacko, nigga
A$AP shit, nigga

I just want my credit like I'm Soulja
Camo like Rambo, big Draco 'cross the shoulder
I'm fine-tuned on iTunes if you shuffle
Test the boy with suits like I came to tune your motor
Motherfuck a mumble rapper, I'd rather be a mogul
Million dollar market deals closin' on my mobile
Keep the grass cut, got a phobia for cobra
You should low key, fuck the world when I'm vulgar
Man, I used to listen to that nigga when I was younger
Found out he's a poser when I got a 'lil older
My bitch used to model for the Vogue, but she older

A truce and a foe, sittin' 'round watchin' poker
No buns in the oven, or babies in the stroller
Just guns in the cupboard, and some ladies comin' over
See I'm a pretty boy, manicures with the rollers
And babushkas on the head, like grandmothers and the Roman
Some women throw me bras, some women throw me roses
Might even flash a titty while she on a nigga shoulders
They goin' crazy at my shows, she passed out if I noticed her
Yeah, we in the buildin' 'til the shit is forced for closure
Yeah, we not the same, I ain't tryna play it like a lame nigga
Switch a gang, switch the beat, like the track that's playin' (that's playin')

Ayo (woo, woo)
Called you a Uber, and that's the only way I'm giving you payback (yeah)
My shit nasty like that one nigga from A$AP
Been ill since I was twelve, was Rocky but ended swell
Now, say Tyler, watch these motherfuckers start ringing bells (ding-dong)
'Cause I spit fire, and shit cold
This shit so mean, nice rocks and I get stones
This shit so clean and bright, bold (yeah)
The gold got a grip hold
All these Lucky Charms like a thick bowl
The diamonds all appraised (nigga), yeah
Y'all go to Avianne and y'all get a lease in that bitch

My earlobes got them yellow boogers like I sneezed in that bitch (achoo)
The 808s is dry, you need to put some grease in that bitch
And let it sit, nigga
Fuck what you heard, and fuck rap, I make a living off that 4-letter word (GOLF)
One-stop shop, nigga, just to sell them shoes
The profit margins lookin' higher than them airplane views
Y'all getting fucked in your deals, and they share that lube
I push the cum-colored Beamer and the inside blue (skrrt)
I push an Elon too, and the 675
The long tail, like the mane that's on A$AP Lou
Whips, whips, whips, whips, Kunta started a fight
The 720 ordered and I still go ride me a bike

But don't follow in yours (naw), Vill behind me in sight (yeah)
My niggas strictly like 9s, like young Mike and his type (pew-pew)
Rip, you better zip that lip and zip up quick
And shit, he'd probably suck my dick and kiss his bitch (mwah)
It's two sides to each coin, I call heads (heads)
Been countin' so much goddamn coin, my palm red (uh)
I spend it on some books and some diamonds that shed light
And them hoes shine just like the top of a bald head, nigga

Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, yeah

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Bernard James Freeman, Chad Hugo, Clarence Reid, Cleavon Darnell Prince, Clifford Joseph Harris, Clinton Darryl Mansell, Donnell Price, Jonathan H. Smith, Leroy Williams, Micah Le Var Troy, Pharrell L. Williams, Rakim Mayers, Sammie D. Norris, Stayve Thomas, Tyler Gregory Okonma, Willie James Clarke