Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Long Live A$AP , by - A$AP Rocky. Release date: 10.01.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Long Live A$AP |
| 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 itching 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 Claus was missing, 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 till I’m no longer existing |
| I wonder if they miss me, as long as I make history |
| Now my 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 motherfucka mine |
| Or toking on that semi, rob a motherfucka blind |
| License plate says wipe me down, car from 1989 |
| But a nigga sits so pretty call that motherfucker fine |
| Lost your motherfucking mind, what’s on your mind niggas talking down |
| Never talk to cops, make him talk 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 'n 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? |
| Pretty nigga rich, Flacko be the shit |
| And that bitch, know we poppin' so she boppin' on this dick |
| Nigga, R.I.P. |
| to PIMP, can’t forget Little Flip |
| And I take it out to Memphis so shout out to triple six |