A$AP Mob, A$AP Nast, A$AP Twelvyy, A$AP Ferg, A$AP Rocky - A$AP Mob - Freestyle on Flex Part 2 lyrics

A$AP Rocky [Rakim Athelaston Mayers] Harlem, New York.U.S.

[A$AP Mob, A$AP Nast, A$AP Twelvyy, A$AP Ferg, A$AP Rocky - A$AP Mob - Freestyle on Flex Part 2 lyrics]

I'm only one of the hottest that spated
Cuz' I walked the lonely mile with satan
Smokin a bag of what the fuck you sayin
Nasty baby bitch, don't get me confused
I never could lose and never will
Aside from any guy
I slay with swords my dead lords
Are so so many guys i make you cry
Angry bullets from my fucking semi fly
You disrespect the set I'm mobbin' with
Who you mobbin' with? You crying bitch
I'm bout my motherfuckin' job and shit
Always striving prosper come trough
When we mobbin' in
Who that, that's nasty baby
In a old school rental, niggas can't get it
Nasty baby, shout out to trap lord rental
We in the building niggas renting it
Nasty baby bout end this shit

I spit that murder, murder, murderous shit
That vocal venom
Dopest rhythm you could probably hit
The curb with this shit
There ain't no money in the hood
They hit bird the shit
And cut the middleman out
He ain't deservin' his split
And get the cream with the people
Divide the shit equal fuck the evils
We gon' stack this paper for our sequel
That's a goal
Drop a quick gem for the people
I'm a star, spittin' hot lava man I lethal
Like Madonna, niggas on us, triggas on us
Hit the corners, they swarm us
They didn't warn us
Wale, they coming through with the
With the war it's hop out of the Porsche and
Head to the fortress over the the west side
Harlem let them techs fly
Can't believe a nigga used to work
Up in that best buy
Now a nigga top 5, nothing like Michelin
Always in that crown hot, something like
And I get the crowd live
And I bring the bitches in

A$AP Worldwide, young niggas gettin' it
Hittin this, spittin this

Hold on, drive slow mask on, gun low
Balla on the court dishin' out like Rondo
Got everything you need, weed or the cocaine
If a nigga bleed leave him dead like Cobain
Five pugs looking like a bunch
Of fuckin' lo mein brain on drugs
Hand on snubs on my way to the drugs
Andrew Jackson
Money confession got your bitch undressing
Givin out lessons anybody can get it
Fuck niggas that frontin cause
I've done did it
Got good aim so I shoot on my pivot
Bring it to yo' momma crib
Dirty chop the kitchen
Trap house boomin, we still pitchin
All blue 7 you would thought I was crippin
All gold cross turned my
Friend to a christian
Hope I don't die before I turn 21
Not tryna die from the barrel of the gun
I'mma keep rhymin, I'mma go diamond
Thug in this industry
This is where the win is me
Get yourself on yo feet
If you fuckin feelin' me

Who shot the sheriff, I said me bitch
Screamin out who runnin who runnin
Like we was 3-6
A$AP be the mafia, who stoppin us
Motherfuckers can't do the job for us
So I murder nigga leave em
Red up on the corner
Flacko told me put 'em on 'em
So I'm buzzing like a hornets nest
Too cold for these bitch I'm boning
Nasty baby, spittin off the top too
I'm over the block too who want it I got two
I put shots in you
And whoever come through my block too
Or ya top too, even with ya chip tooth
Ya rock too and you know, I got you

Fuck it, listen, listen look, ugh, yeah
A$AP Worldwide nigga
You know how that shit go down
Ayo' flex, I told you i got you, my nigga
I told you, I got you look, yeah, yeah

Feeling like a vigilante or a visionary
Back when cemeteries, Death
Or thoughts of prison couldn't scare me
Shoot at Military don't believe me doggie
Triple dare me, check your dictionary
Find me under none, fictionary
Life's a game of pictionary
Sitting on that train
Fancy guads and master keys
Whip 'em like a scape
Harlem east side get that cake
West side get that bread
Got a murder mob on way
My BX nigga, techs nigga
Young niggas, dumb niggas
Shoot before they think
Get tipped off, get clipped off
Then living in the clink
Get washed up then rinsed off
Young pup with the big dog
Young Buck wearing big draws
Piss poor to the crystal
Jump jump like Criss Cross
Crossed off like Chris Paul
Big guns call 'em Rick Ross
Broke home, make my dick soft
Lick balls then dick pause
I spit raw, make them shit jaw
I ain't even mad so just
Imagine when I'm pissed off

In a dark room in Harlem thinking bout shots
And how it barely grazed me
And it coulda hit Rock
And a couple of other niggas
But they all roll on my block
Machiavelli from Harlem how you wanna be Pac
Wanna be a jiggy nigga
From the East coast right
The beast coast right
I know you feelin the feet close right
You know I can see it in ya face
Your teeth all tight well Flex got beats
We can beef all night
Schoolboy you better School ya boy
Hit you wit the ruler boy
I'm the new 50 cent I will
Fucking Ja rule ya boy
Chillin to Shabba Ranks
Fo're I hit you with the tooler boy
Hit em with the chopsticks
And fucking Tai fool ya boy
I don't sell rocks nigga I smoke em
Bobby selling crack and thats no joking
The beat had me laced
I started West coast-in shit was too potent
And now I'm ready to poke somethin'
Rock you wanna know sumn?
Sherane got good brain
A couple Harlem niggas
Said that bitch up in the chicken wing
You top dog I heard you in a lick of things
A Hollywood bully where you

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