A$AP Ferg, A$AP Rocky - Pups lyrics

Arf, arf, arf

Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (Right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Now where my dawgs at?
(Frankie Mothafuckin' P)

I said get at me
I'm talkin' to you niggas with that rap beef
Get at me ostrich-skin seats like it's acne
Get at me never tacky, jeans made by Acne
Fuck Governor Pataki and Patakis

It's about to get uglier than Balenciagas
Felt bad I never finished college
Now we fuckin' cuties with booties
In Dapper Dan silk pajamas
Livin' the dream, open up your eyelids
Me and Flacko on a island
With a few bad bitches
How my cousin make a mil'
Off a du rag business?
All my dawgs with the shit
You with a few cat litters
All the yellow with the black
Like the Wu back (Su)

Back when I was rentin' beds
I was still catchin' head
If I was bussin' dishes
I'd be still fuckin' bitches
Boof pack, gift wrapped just like Christmas
Gone for a minute, now I'm back
Did you miss me? Had the whole Harlem World
Wearin' Under Armours under the armors
I'm a pretty mothafuckin' comma
Gorgeous comma
Pretty much about to fuck your mama
Kinda runnin' late for this
Meetin' with Obama i ain't mean it to rhyme
But call me when your mind right
Meet me with your romper
CC me when the vibe right
More money, more problem, more chopper
More drama
And I got these hoes, feelin' like Mo Bamba

Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Now where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)

Who gon' do what? My dawgs gon' tool up
Nigga, look out, 'cause look
Down like one, two, fucked
And we don't give two fucks
Where I'm from, you lunch, you food
Niggas called your bluff
Pockets Warren Buffett
Security guard too buff
I like my songs screwed up
I own a gold toothbrush
I get my gold tooth buffed
I'ma stomp a nigga out in Timberland nubuck
Young Buck, too buck, Benz truck, new truck
Big horns, tuba, more good than Cuba
They tried to hit us like
Huey with the armpit's up
But we swerved through the bullets
Get your targets up
Hood Pope up in this bitch
In Trap Lord we trust

Now where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)
Now where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)

I said get at me
I'm talkin' to you niggas with that rap beef
Get at me ostrich-skin seats like it's acne
Get at me never tacky, jeans made by Acne
Fuck Governor Pataki and Patakis