A$AP Rocky, French Montana - Brotha Man lyrics
A$AP Rocky [Rakim Athelaston Mayers] Harlem, New York, U.S. 🇺🇸
French Montana [Karim Kharbouch] Casablanca, Morocco, 🇲🇦/NY, U.S. 🇺🇸
[A$AP Rocky, French Montana - Brotha Man lyrics]
You gotta fight for somethin'
Stand for somethin', gotta understand
Gotta make the plays
Stick to it, get through, write
Yours, ride your wave, just keep it true
We'll fight the blues, we'll fight the blues
Brotha man, young man
Let me tell you somethin'
Young man, brotha man, brotha man
You gotta fight for somethin'
Stand for somethin'
That's what the poem told me
It was a greater poet like you know it but
I'd rather talk about how my
Neck is frozen and I
I'd write a song about the
Banging hoes and then
Stay up in the bitches while she dozing
When I went to my brotha, told him
"Help me please"
Now we hop out the PJs posted by the P
My old bitch yellin', "Come back, come back
Come back, babe
Come back (Come back) come back (Come back)
Come back (Come back) babe"
Harlem nights, quick speed, Godspeed
Speed of light, Grease Lightnin'
Leather on my six-speed bike
Bicycle tires, icicle diamonds
Popsicle stripes
Pop (Sicles) pop (Sicles) for the Klondikes
Pop-pop wheelies on the dirty bikes
15 sellin' China white
Cops stoppin' if you opposite of white
Pop, pop like you opposite of right
Take heed, lil' nigga, lowkey
Take lead on them niggas
Smooth dude riding 'round the boulevard
Back in the days was on the train
Ride the bus before I ride another nigga wave
Beautiful, the water's flat
Like asses pre-Onika (yeah)
You the smaller version, you the baby sneaker
Flacko, I wonder how it feel to
Live or be like you
Album number three and keep it G like Q
Heard you niggas get fly like G, like 2
Nah, more like 4, like 3, not 2
Shittin' on these niggas like P, like U
Drip Raheem and Q, got Hi-C like juice
Mama hubby got life, he got three strikes too
Real niggas bleed like me, like you
That's why I got a beam
With a green light too
I don't even make a scene
I just swing right through
I'm just stayin' on my Qs and my Ps like soup
Walkin' in my shoes, follow me like suit
Brotha man, young man
Let me tell you somethin'
Young man, brotha-brotha
Gotta fight for somethin'
Stand for somethin', brotha understand
God don't make the plays
Take the truth, get through, ride your wave
Just keep the truth
Remember when I went to my brotha, told him
"Help me please"
Now we hop out the PJs, posted by the P
My old bitch yellin', "Come back, come back
Come back, babe
Come back (Come back) come back (Come back)
Come back (Come back) babe"
You're a cornstar
All you fuck is corn broads
(You fucking pop)
Frenchie faux pas 'cause you ain't had no pa
Your deal got catches like an outfielder
(Are you, are you, are you?)
Getting that God's view from towers
Lookin' downward like I'm Donald Trump