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A$AP Rocky - At.Long.Last.A$AP Album Lyrics

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At.Long.Last.A$AP Album
by  A$AP Rocky


A$AP Rocky - At.Long.Last.A$AP Lyrics



  1. Holy Ghost
  2. Canal St.
  3. Fine Whine
  4. L$D
  5. Excuse Me
  6. JD
  7. Lord Pretty Flacko Jodye 2
  8. Electric Body
  9. Jukebox Joints
  10. Max B
  11. Pharsyde
  12. Wavybone
  13. Westside Highway
  14. Better Things
  15. Ms
  16. Dreams (Interlude)
  17. Everyday
  18. Back Home


Holy Ghost

[ Featuring Joe Fox ]

Ayy, I have a message from the Most High that says
"This nigga kept his soul from the Devil"
It's true, I guess I mean, wait a minute now
Is you people really that ign'ant? Really? Really?

Church bells and choir sounds, tell 'em, "Quiet down"
Bow your head, the Most High's around cocktails
Guys and gals, miss me, ties and gowns happen now
My attire sells, how you tryna sound? Stop it now
They ask me why I don't go to church no more
'Cause church is the new club and wine is the new bub
And lies is the new drugs
My sister the next stripper, my brother the next victim
My usher the next tricker
Satan givin' out deals, finna own these rappers
The game is full of slaves and they mostly rappers
You sold your soul first, then your homies after
Let's show these stupid field niggas they could own they masters
Holy smokes, I think my pastor was the only folk
To own the Rollie, Ghost and Rolls Royces with no Holy Ghost
And get your shit prepared, face your fears, all you niggas scared
Say your prayers, pray he fit upstairs, it's our only hope

Church bells and choir sounds, tell 'em, "Quiet down"
Bow your head, the Most High's around, Lord
(These things are not right, these things is not right) Lord
(Hell, nobody's ever defined) Lord

The pastor had a thing for designer glasses (holy)
Yeah, I'm talkin' fancy plates and diamond glasses
The ushers keep skimmin' the collection baskets
And they tryna dine us with some damn wine and crackers
Who's more important than your Lord and Savior?
Won't let the pearly gates up in this
Probably do that on your poor behavior
My mentor got a couple tips to save ya
Just be sure to count it as my only favor, thank me later
Uh, every night I stayed up sayin' prayer, made me greater, uh
Let's savor chasin' green for collard greens and baked potatoes
On the table, pray for cable, hit the label, now we major
Ha, I got my own relationship with God, Lord

Holy ghost, I'm on my knees, I'm on my knees
Holy ghost, you're all I need, you're all I need
Holy ghost, I'm on my knees, I'm on my knees
Holy ghost, you're all I need, you're all I need (let me down, let me down, let me down)
Holy ghost, I'm on my knees, I'm on my knees (let me down, let me down, let me down)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Burton Brian, Fox Joe, Mayers Rakim, Nichols Benjamin
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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Canal St.

[ Featuring BONES ]

Yeah, live through the strugglin', life's a every day hustle
I hustle every day in life thinkin' back
Takin' packs up the block them older niggas said I couldn't hustle
Man f*ck 'em niggas, I'll be back, strapped back pack
Bitch, I'm flipping work, hand in hand, I think they call it trappin'
Racin' laps, re-up went to waste, it pays to make it stack
Face the fact, there's always niggas out there tryin' to knock the hustle
I guess that's why they say we trap, don't let niggas hold you back
I'm just a kettle from the ghetto with no pot to piss in
So who am I to call it black? Black man, black male
Black ball, black opsy, black diamonds glistenin'
Attract the pigs and all the rats, kitten scratch

I went from roaches on my bump to red broaches on the cuff
On my tux, chauffeur pullin' up, no if, ands or buts about him
I went to Paris for my trunks, 100 thousand spend on Goyard
Used it once, couldn't give a shit, damn or f*ck about 'em
Hit Canal Street, real as a gold medallion
Smokin' blunts in front of public housing
Wildin' 'til they throw me in 'em cuffs
Mouth full of fronts, look like Master P up in my Cartier's (uhh)
Diamonds shinin' in the frames
Changed the game and made them say, "Uhh"
Ain't no limits to this shit, life's a flick, just stickin' to the script
My life is like a movie, they should film me through it
Take a pic, be sure to frame that shit, forever me, was always G
Way before this famous shit, y'all just pretend to do it

You say you got 'em guns, but I've never seen you bang (bang)
You say you get 'em drugs, but I've never seen you sling (alright)
You say you in that game, but I've yet to see you play (what?)
You say you going hard, but nobody feels the same, yeah (yeah)
You say you got 'em guns, but I've never seen you bang
You say you get 'em drugs, but I've never seen you sling (uhh)
You say you in that game, but I've yet to see you play (ooh ooh)
You say you going hard, but nobody feels the same, yeah (skrrt)

Rap game like the crack game, swear it's all the same, hustle
Whippin' soda through the pot, watch it bubble
Flexin' muscle, hit the block, I bet I teach you niggas how to hustle
Sellin' coca on the charts, watch it double
Uh, taking meetings on bus, this shit my mobile office
Gettin' head while at my desk, this shit my oval office
I remember when I got a hundred for recordings
Now the sum of my performances just put me on the Forbes list
F*ck Jiggy, I'm flawless, f*ck pretty, I'm gorgeous
Your favorite rapper's corpses couldn't match up my importance
My mind is out in orbits, plus my ego got endorsements
Heard the people want that raw shit, but y'all be talkin' bullshit

You say you got 'em guns, but I've never seen you bang (bang)
You say you get 'em drugs, but I've never seen you sling (alright)
You say you in that game, but I've yet to see you play (what?)
You say you going hard, but nobody feels the same, yeah (yeah)
You say you got 'em guns, but I've never seen you bang
You say you get 'em drugs, but I've never seen you sling (uhh)
You say you in that game, but I've yet to see you play (ooh ooh)
You say you going hard, but nobody feels the same, yeah (skrrt)

Seen you bang
Seen you sling
See you play
Nobody
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Rakim Mayers, Hector Delgado, Frans Mernick, Elmo O'connor, Steven Adams
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Royalty Network, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, Songtrust Ave

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Fine Whine

[ Featuring Future, M.I.A., Joe Fox ]

This love, this love, this love won't last forever
This love, this love, this love can own our ass
This love, this love, this love won't last forever
And this love, and this love, and gon' own our

I think my cup is getting muddy, oh buddy
Is this that punch, drunk, and lovey? No buggy
Eyes bloody when we out in public, I'm hubby, she say she love me
Wasted money on syrup and honey, she think she Duffy
Then I became a druggy, enhanced my fame and money
And for your pain and suffering, my karma's waiting for me
Expecting payments from me, but she won't get a damn thing from me
She just might get a band aid from me
You swear the Benz and these plans ain't for me (shit)

I know I'm a scumbag and now your heart broke
The night is still young, for you to sip and whine
Slow, slow, slow, lemme see you whine
Slow, slow, slow, oh yeah
I know your heart is broken, pick up your wine glass
With your fine ass, before you whine fast (whine)
Slow, slow, just lemme see you whine
Slow, slow, oh yeah

This love, this love, this love won't last forever
This love, this love, this love can own our ass

How the f*ck am I supposed to live?
How many f*cks am I supposed to give? (hey)
How the f*ck am I supposed to feel?
Treat it like a bill, cut the check and split (hey)
Tell your new bitch she can suck a dick (hey)
Tell your new bitch she can suck a dick (yeah)
Tell your new bitch she can suck a dick
Tell your new bitch she can suck a dick (yeah)

You the one that was putting up with me (hey)
You see how these streets corrupted me (hey)
I gotta conquer everything in front of me (hey)
Even though I broke your heart, how can you turn on me?
We with the shits on the real, I do this shit on the real
I like them drinks on the real, I f*ck your bitch on the real (?)
We do this shit on the real, keep it real on the real
I was just keeping it G (hey), she don't spend money at first (hey)
Say you in love with me (hey), but I know it never gon' work
I come through, top back, hangin' out the 'vert (skrrt)
Eyes screwed up, I'm drinkin' syrup (woo)
I know that look that you givin' me
It's killing you softly, mentally

I know I'm a scumbag and now your heart broke (I know)
The night is still young, for you to sip and whine
Slow, slow, slow, lemme see you whine
Slow, slow, slow, oh yeah
I know your heart is broken, pick up your wine glass
With your fine ass, before you whine fast (whine)
Slow, slow, slow, lemme see you whine (I know)
Slow, slow, oh yeah (I know your heart broken)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ricci Riera, Rakim Mayers, George Rameses F Magnus, Nayvadius Wilburn, Joe Fox, Axel Morgan
Copyright: Lyrics © TuneCore Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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L$D

I know I dream about her all day
I think about her with her clothes off
I'm ridin' 'round with my system pumpin' LSD
I look for ways to say, "I love you"
But I ain't into makin' love songs
Baby, I'm just rappin' to this LSD
She ain't a stranger to the city life
I introduce her to this hippy life
We make love under pretty lights, LSD (Acid)
I get a feelin' it's a trippy night
Them other drugs just don't fit me right
Girl, I really f*ckin' want love, sex, dream
Another quarter to the face system
Make no mistakes, it's all, a leap of faith for love
It takes a place in, feelin' that you crave doin' love, sex, dreams

It started in Hollywood
Dreamin' of sharin' love (yeah)
My tongue at a loss for words
'Cause my feelings just said it all
Party just started up
Dreamin' of sharin' worlds
Held this feeling for way too long
Said, "I really wanna let it go"

I've been gettin' fly because the gimmick's so dope
I've been gettin' high 'cause I figured Lord told me
I've been drinkin', drivin', now we'll never go home
I gon' stay in doubt because the weather's so cold, oh

Feelin' low sometimes when the light shines down
Makes me high
Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
Feelin' low sometimes when the light shines down
Makes me high
Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?

It started in Hollywood (duh, duh-duh)
Dreamin' of sharin' love (duh, duh-duh)
My tongue had a loss for words
'Cause my feelings just said it all

I look for ways to say, "I love you"
But I ain't into makin' love songs
Baby, I'm just rappin' to this LSD
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Hector Delgado, Isaac John D. De Boni, James Gregory Scheffer, Michael Burman, Michael John Mule, Rakim Mayers
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING

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Excuse Me

(For all them hoes that was frontin' on nigga back in the days, man) Know I'm sayin'?
This for my broke jiggy niggas right now, you know (excuse me, f*ck out my face)
They say wealth is in the mind, not the pocket (jiggy shit bruh, bruh)
I learned that from a very wise man (gotta pocket full of stones like Pimp said and shit)
(Uh, yeah)

Okay excuse me, Mr. Bill Collector, I got problems
My check arrive mañana, I'ma pay my debt, I promise
I spent 20 thousand dollars with my partners in Bahamas
Another 20 thousand dollars on Rick Owens out in Barneys
I said excuse me, why the f*ck you lookin'? What's your problem?
I swear we gon' have drama if you touch my tailored garments
All you see is niggas here, so that means it's triggers there
What you mean? We got weed, and codeine and bricks for sale
I bet a lot of niggas plottin' so you know I got that heater, bruh
Drive my side of Harlem, catch me ridin' with my nina, bruh
She got an apple bottom that remind you of Bonita, bruh
Oh you mean like Q-Tip? Now that girl my new bitch
Excuse me, no, I believe the proper term's excuse you
I could switch up on you niggas and start shittin' if I choose to
That's when the new you becomin' different since they knew you
I guess the new me is just gon' take some gettin' used to

Excuse me, I tell them they're excused
What's the word around town? Tell me what's the latest news
And uh, who them niggas? I tell 'em we them dudes
Ain't got time to make excuses bro we steady making moves
And I, run the game even when they bend the rules
I pay very close attention after that I pay my dues
And uh, excuse me, may I be excused?
'Cause I gave this shit my all, ain't got nothing left to lose

Tell me why the little niggas talking like they killas, bruh?
Nowadays these niggas always caught up in they feelings, bruh
But I stay 100 'cause you know I keep it trilla, bruh
Mobbin' like 2Pacalypse or Bishop how I Hit 'Em Up
Fill 'em up with lyrics, bury all my victims, kill 'em
Dig 'em up again, to say I did it
Snitches excuse me, mind your business, bruh
Swear that you could get it, girl
She a fashion killa, huh?
Killa girl, I'm a go-getter, shit, get it, girl
Flacko, where you been?
I've been thuggin' with my niggas, bruh
Flacko, how you been?
I'm still thuggin' with my niggas, bruh
Flacko, where you been?
I've been thuggin' with my niggas, bruh
Flacko, how you been?
I've been thuggin' with my
Buggin' with my niggas, go sluggin'
Tell me who f*ckin' with my niggas
Who run it? My niggas
F*ck up, they buggin'
Now niggas slump over Robitussin in public
Cup full of purple substance or something
My niggas, the only thing that move me
Excuse me

Excuse me, I tell them they're excused
What's the word around town? Tell me what's the latest news
And uh, who them niggas? I tell 'em we them dudes
Ain't got time to make excuses bro we steady making moves
And I, run the game even when they bend the rules
I pay very close attention after that I pay my dues
And uh, excuse me, may I be excused?
'Cause I gave this shit my all, ain't got nothing left to lose

Flacko, Flacko, Flacko
Flacko, Flacko, Flacko
Flacko, Flacko, Flacko
Flacko, Flacko, Flacko
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Buck Ram, Hector Delgado, Isaac De Boni, James Scheffer, Kim Gannon, Michael Mule, Rakim Mayers, Walter Kent
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, GANNON & KENT MUSIC CO

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JD

Yo, what's your name young blood?
What they call you?
I got, I got James, Jimmy, or Byron Dean
Yeah, I've been feeling that real JD swag lately

Lord Pretty Flacko Jodye stepped up in this piece (yeah)
Bust my Glock to ensure that all you niggas rest in peace (alright)
Uh, Schwarzenegger I, straight slaughter niggas
I'm offin niggas, screaming off with niggas heads
They all surrender, better call for niggas (yeah)
Come at all you niggas heads, talk em off a ledge
I'm arguing with 'em, I'm done talking with 'em (woo)
I order coffins for 'em, call the coroner for 'em
Get a comforter for 'em, I did all you niggas beds
I want all you niggas dead (yeah)
You want all you nigga money, royalness and bread
Royalties instead of rollies for your boys, but loyalty is dead

Now I'm only up again
Kick a man while he's down
Looks dead, can't be safe to say it (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Everybody's getting punished (ohh, ohh)
Looking down to sell with you, how have you been? (Aight, aight)
Probably an undercover, had them undercovers with you
People buying and selling for you
I'll only sell with you if you're blind to sell

Lord Pretty Flacko Jodye stepped up in this piece (booyah)
Bust my Glock to ensure that all you niggas rest in peace (bop, bop, bop)
Rep my block, quick to draw on all you niggas if there's beef (alright, that's right, booyah)
Blow your spot, better pray to the Lord this shit don't hit the streets
Jimmy Dean

(Alright)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Rakim Mayers
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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Lord Pretty Flacko Jodye 2

Uh
Yeah (Lord Pretty Flacko, nigga)
Yeah (yeah)
Yeah (yeah)
Yeah (woo, woo)
Yeah (yeah)
Yeah

Who the jiggy nigga with the gold links?
Got me reminiscin' 'bout my old day
Three 6, suck a nigga dick, no foreplay, all day (woo)
Boomin' out the trap through the hallway
Tell me what you niggas know about it
Auntie sayin' turn it down, or she finna call the cops
We be plottin' on the opps, she the one who got the drop
Just a free, quick fix, to the A and it's okay
They gon' take me back to my old ways
I was tryna chill, poppin' seals ever since I got a deal
Kick it with my model chick
Sip Cris, f*ck niggas wanna diss
Now I gotta let 'em know who's really trill

Lord Pretty Flacko, Jodye
Tell these f*ck niggas, how you been?
You can crossing our minds, niggas talk down every now and then
On the side, gettin' styled 9 times out of 10
It was, Flacko, Jodye, Flacko, Jodye, Flacko, Jodye, Flacko Jodye

I ain't never lookin' for no handouts
Broke ass niggas never helpin' but they hands out
Find out where the f*ck nigga live then we camp out
Screamin', "F*ck the world", never catch me with my pants down
Always been a stand up guy, I'd rather stand out
Raf Simons, Stan Smith edition with my bands out
I'm the trillest one to do it since Pimp, nigga hands down
If a nigga put his hands on me, that's a man down
Trick what? Pimps up, hoes down
Woah now, slow down
See they runnin' with my old style
Grow foul, gold smile, you ho now, thuggin' with my old style
It's a shame how they low down
Dirty like Adidas on my sneaker feature, uh
Trappin' through the speaker, peep the beeper ringer, uh
Turnin' off phones, just to reach 'em, gotta beep 'em
I'm a Lord motherf*cker, better greet him if you see him

Lord Pretty Flacko, Jodye
Tell these f*ck niggas, how you been?
You can crossing our minds, niggas talk down every now and then
On the side, gettin' styled 9 times out of 10
It was, Flacko, Jodye, Flacko, Jodye, Flacko, Jodye, Flacko Jodye
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Mario Loving, Nesbitt Wesonga Jr., Rakim Mayers
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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Electric Body

[ Featuring ScHoolboy Q, Joe Fox ]

Yeah, this year we finna make a killin' (yeah)
Now the money stack up to the ceilin' (yeah)
All I know is payback, all I rep is A$AP (woo)
Now we finna go off in the buildin' (yeah)
I could really give a f*ck about your feelings
This'd be a schoolboy and a rude boy too
Not a jerk like the New Boyz, groovin' like Schoolboy Q, nigga
I done killed a few boys, nigga (yeah)
Down a couple shots, turn it up another notch
Got a bitch that's in the spot and she faded (yeah)
Yeah, corset top with the new ass shots
Couple Instagram likes, now she famous (yeah)
Nose job, workin' on some payments
On a new car, now she finna trade it (yeah)
Next time, you shouldn't've sucked a nigga dick for free
Man, I swear the smart girls are my favorite (yeah)
(Oh, my God, your cable's turned off)
(You shouldn't've sucked the nigga's dick for free)
Brand new 'Rari, finna race it (yeah)
I am not the nigga you should play with (yeah)
This year, I turned it into the racist (yeah)
All I wanna see is green faces (woo)
All I wanna count is green numbers (yeah)
Man that shit is weird, lookin' like the Matrix (yeah)
Gave 'em HiiiPower, Always Strive And Prosper
Only took a little bit of patience (woo, woo, woo)

Shorty she like to pop ass high (woo, woo, woo)
Popped her way up to first class high (woo, woo, woo)
She clap-clap-clap-clap-clap, she drop it low
Then she clap-clap-clap-clap-clap, down to the floor
Shake that ass girl, make that coochie wet (oh-woah, woah-woah)
Shake that ass girl, make that coochie wet (oh-woah, woah-woah)
Shake that ass girl, make that coochie wet (oh-woah, woah-woah)
Shake that ass girl, make that coochie wet (oh-woah, woah-woah)

Ever seen a crib like this? Diamonds in my ear like wrists (uh)
Pull off at the light like, "Wuh", lookin' like a mil in that trunk (yeah)
Two-seater got me lookin' all clumped, hit a nigga wig on sight (yeah)
Serve a nigga mom off white, I'ma get it so high, I'm Christ
Nigga, ball so hard like Mike, I could whip that bitch like Ike
I can f*ck your bitch off hype, pink ring, got bling all right
How a hot nigga rock this ice? 14, almost got that strike
14, almost did that time, 14, had a 905
Clip small, but the shit shoot fine
Shoot a spine, make a nigga recline
Start sparkin', a nigga go blind, G Rides, hoppin out of Nissans
Do I got them hoes chirpin'? Yeah
Do I put the work in? Yeah
Do I got them hoes out workin'? Yeah
Do I make 'em put the work in the Birkin? Yeah

Shorty she like to pop ass high (woo, woo, woo)
Popped her way up to first class high (woo, woo, woo)
She clap-clap-clap-clap-clap, she drop it low
Then she clap-clap-clap-clap-clap, down to the floor
Shake that ass girl, make that coochie wet (oh-woah, woah-woah)
Shake that ass girl, make that coochie wet (oh-woah, woah-woah)
Shake that ass girl, make that coochie wet (oh-woah, woah-woah)
Shake that ass girl, make that coochie wet (oh-woah, woah-woah)

Ohh, memories
Ohh, memories
Ohh, memories
We've got electric body, we found ourselves with perfect ways (ohh, memories)
We've got electric body, we're never gonna be alone (ohh, memories)
We've got electric body, we found ourselves with perfect ways (ohh, memories)
With your electric body (ohh, memories)
With your electric body
With your electric body (ohh, memories)
With your electric body
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Brian Burton, David Colquit, Edwin Perez, Hector Delgado, Jeffrey Collins, Joe Fox, Quincy Hanley, Rakim Mayers, Teddy Walton
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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Jukebox Joints

[ Featuring Kanye West, Joe Fox ]

And I'm a man of my word, that I got nothing at all
So tell me now does it hurt, or is it too late?
I'm a man of my law, I gotta keep my weight up
But who will lean if I fall? But never mind, I'm fly, you know

She the type to seek love and make it everlasting
I'm the type to wake up and say it never happened
I mean I f*cked the girl with hella passion
But it's cold how we smashing
Left her sleeping on a separate mattress
I think her body makes for better practice
Good excuse for my absence like, "Flacko where yo' ass been?"
Heard you done with fashion, now yo ass is acting
I'm tripping off the Acid, now yo ass is looking massive
This ain't the shit equipped with columns from my reckless swagging
This that dark house party with this record blasting
Rolling spliffs, clique beside me, fingers Liberace
When I seen this bitch in Venice, Tommy and some mid Huaraches
I'm all alone though, mood music makes me bop slower
Trippin' on how I shifted pop culture
Changed Hip-Hop on ya, smoking like a Rasta was my pops culture
I be damned if I die sober
I'll be sure to visit Pac for ya

And I'm a man of my word, that I got nothing at all
So tell me now does it hurt, or is it too late?
I'm a man of my law, I gotta keep my weight up
But who will lean if I fall? But never mind, I'm fly, you know (uh, uh)

And shout outs my pretty women in the spot tonight
Let 'em see them f*ckin' hands
And for the freaks that love the niggas with the Jeeps
Lex, coupes and the Beamers and the Benz, come again
When my death calls, I pray the Lord accept collect calls
'Cause I be playing with these womens like they're sex dolls
Call my Prada prior, cause it's dropping next fall
Don't you short the next ball, my closet like the Met ball
She said, "I just love it when you speak soft-spoken
Up in the magazines with your teeth all golden"
Took the whole year off just to learn to make beats
Dropped the flames on my release and leave the streets all smokin'
That touch your soul music, I get you higher, grab your lighter fluid
Might add a preacher and a choir to it
I speak the father's music, hallelujah
Always Strive & Prosper, stupid
Even Montell can't tell you how he do it
Sit back and watch me do it

And I'm a man of my word, that I got nothing at all
So tell me now does it hurt, or is it too late?
I'm a man of my law, I gotta keep my weight up
But who will lean if I fall? But never mind, I'm fly, you know

Okay let's get past all the swag trapping and fashion talking
You want that take it to gats or keep it in rapping talking
They rapping bars it get embarrassed, it actually happens often
You my son like my last abortion, I'm just laughing off it
I changed rap with fashion forward, yeah I'm that important
You jack my style, she jack me off, and y'all both acting awkward?
Jiggling baby, nah, go ahead bitch
Ain't nothing better than the pretty big forehead bitch
Listen close I got some shit to tell you, motherf*ckers get familiar
It's not just model bitches on my genitalia
Did Azalea's from Australia, trips to Venezuela
Cinderella's under my umbrella for different weather
Ella, ella, ay just play it like I didn't tell ya
Niggas taking pictures any time we get together
And hope to fly away one day just like some love birds
Only one word I'm afraid of is the "love" word

More power to you, more power to you my lovely one
What's up bruh? That all depends
With friends like you, who needs friends
Sometimes the best advice is no advice
Especially when it's your advice
Ugh, man, remember
Your man was on stage dressed like a family member
Man everything basic to Ye Guevara
That means Saint Laurent is my Zara
I remember Rochelle ain't wanna f*ck me with the polo
Ay bitch you missed out, hashtag #Fomo
I got one child, one child
But I'm f*ckin', f*ckin', f*ckin' like I'm tryna make four more
They wanna throw me under a white jail
'Cause I'm a black man with confidence of a white male
Hallelujah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Rakim Mayers, Warren Moore, William Robinson Jr., Kanye West, Oliver Joseph Fox-Williams, Che Pope, Dicky Sulaksono
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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Max B

Through the spot
Everyday was like a beef to me
Little nigga said he'd make it hot
(Ohh) You don't wanna draw heat with me
I got niggas that'll run up in your spot
Cooly nigga, you don't really want beef
I'm Biggaveli, I could do this in my sleep
My bitch now tryna comfort me
And baby I wonder, baby, I wonder

Buccaneers of rugged gear, nigga f*ck a fear
One, since year one, I've been thuggin' here, yeah
Whole shit is ours, you in awe, please don't get involved
This is war, walk around a frame with blaze up in this jawn
Behind prison walls, nigga lickin' balls, pause
Different cause, stricted laws
Damn if I don't break up in the mall, prison yard, prison guard
No principal, detention on your friends and all
Commissary missing like your sibling's paw
Uncle Tom, please don't make my sentence long
Granted what I did was wrong
Pigs don't show remorse if you admit it all
Missing ma, hope that she don't miss the call
Admitted that she'll never visit, like the hard headed never listen, Lord
So tell me how the f*ck I'm supposed to eat?
If the richer's getting richer, the poor's growing weak
My brother died up in the streets, may he rest in peace
Niggas got heat like Pusha T, get it cheap
Flacko how you been, where you at? I've been kickin' back
Relax place down my favorite thinking cap, scratch my nigga neck
Hitta chtta chat, this and that, A$AP diplomats
I'm missing Max, wish that they could bring the nigga Bigga back

I wonder, laying in my bed (I'm Biggaveli, I could do this in my sleep)
Am I still too young, am I still too young? (And baby, I wonder, baby I wonder)
And I hold back, thoughts running through my head (my bitch now tryna comfort me)
Did I f*ck it up, did I f*ck it up? (Baby, I wonder)

It's like I lace up my boots and call my troops lately
Traded all my hoodie rap for all my suits lately
I'm 26 but I've been living in my youth lately
Pull my wisdom, but I still spit it like my tooth ache me
Duck shots, mother f*ck cops, what a blood clarts
All I gots my words and my balls and my one cock
Pause, bug shots fly, my young buck died
Passed away from a stray, from some fake tough guy
Now this the kind of story that should make doves cry
F*ck that, this the story that should make thugs cry
Dry your eyes older sis, held 'em close, watch 'em switch
Gave 'em kiss in the midst of all of this
Ain't too late to pause or skip

I wonder, laying in my bed (I'm Biggaveli, I could do this in my sleep)
Am I still too young, am I still too young? (And baby, I wonder, baby I wonder)
And I hold back, thoughts running through my head (my bitch now tryna comfort me)
Did I f*ck it up, did I f*ck it up? (Baby, I wonder)

(I'm Biggaveli, I could do this in my sleep)
(And baby, I wonder, baby I wonder)

I wonder, as I'm laying in my bed
Am I still too young, am I still too young?
And I hold back, thoughts running through my head
Did I f*ck it up, did I f*ck it up? (baby, I wonder, baby I wonder)
And I wonder, laying in my bed
Am I still too young, am I still too young?
And I hold back, thoughts running through my head
Did I f*ck it up, did I f*ck it up? Sorry guys
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Hector Delgado, Joe Fox, Leonard Cohen, Rakim Mayers
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, Cloud9

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Pharsyde

[ Featuring Joe Fox ]

Love on the low, love everywhere I go
And I can't face it all I need is right where I belong
Love on the low, love everywhere I go (yeah, yeah, yeah)
And I can't face it all I need is right where I belong (uh, uh, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah)
(Uh, yeah)
(Uh, yeah)
(Yeah, uh)
(Uh, yeah)

My ears are ringing, my palms are shaking, my heart is racing
Somebody's mama's heart is aching, can't take it, partly fainted
Found his body parts in awkward places, like apartments, basements
Garbage vacant, lots, garages, spaces, Harlem's far too spacious
Sometimes I wish I could get away and charter spaceships
To get away from my inhuman race with hearts of Satans
Kick off my Mason Martin's, lay on back like Martha Mason
Smoke away my eye and lung 'til later die at 71, uh

I lay down now
(This someone's journey in the streets who gotta keep a piece, peace)
I lay down now
As I lay me down to sleep I pray to God I rest in peace
I pray the Lord my soul to keep

Gentrification split the nation that I once was raised in
I don't recall no friendly neighbors face on my upraising
Back in my younger days or razor blades with gangs who bang and never stood a chance
Some boys don't dance, but left 'em Harlem shaking
On the pavement
And my generation f*cked, and my society
Very trippy pages in my diary
It's the irony how LSD inspired me to reach the high in me
Used to never give a damn now I don't give a f*ck entirely
I think my pride died in me, somewhere inside of me, it's gotta be
A whole 'nother side of me
If you seen the shit that I'd have seen in 26 years of living
That's how many f*cks I've given

Love on the low, love everywhere I go (yeah, yeah, uh)
And I can't face it all I need is right where I belong (uh, uh, yeah)

I lay down now
(This someone's journey in the streets who gotta keep a piece, peace)
I lay down now
As I lay me down to sleep I pray to God I rest in peace
So, so

Love on the low, love everywhere I go
And I can't face it all I need is right where I belong
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Brian Joseph Burton, Oliver Joseph Fox-Williams, Rakim Mayers
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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Wavybone

[ Featuring UGK, Juicy J ]

The hustle continues (mhm)
(Gettin' money is, gettin') money is (yeah)
Put your mind to, something you want
(Getin' money is, gettin' money is)
It come true

Gettin' money is what I do, thought you knew (falling in love with you)(uh huh)
Gettin' money is what I do (thought y'all knew)(falling in love with you)
Gettin' money is what I do (what I do)(falling in love with you, baby)
Gettin' money is what I do (falling in love with you)

I remember all the nights on different corners spittin', pitchin' water (uh)
Now I'm richer off the shit I thought of
From the home of the richest ballers
I'm Richard Porter mixed with Mr. Porter
This picture all the jiggy shit I ordered
I went to France and almost got deported
The fans is screaming when I hit the border
I visit Nice like it's my sisters daughter
Vision broad, I thought of all the different kids and all
Poor without a sip of water, time to get my shit in order
And do somethin' different, gettin' tired of the same old shit
When I'm spittin' lines, 'bout the section lines, I sit you kids who listen for us
I see prison for us until we pull back, that's a true fact
Get money, yeah I do that, thought you knew that

Gettin' money is what I do, thought you knew (falling in love with you)(uh huh)
Gettin' money is what I do (thought y'all knew)(falling in love with you)
Gettin' money is what I do (what I do)(falling in love with you, baby)
Gettin' money is what I do (falling in love with you)

Candy low slider, I'm a sole survivor
Keep a suite in my riser, bitch I'm keepin' it liver
Did not envy Joe, I thank fans, talk slow
He think he want a war but he don't really wanna go
Gettin' me some head from Sheryl Crow
A hell of a blow, from a millionaire snow
You can waste your time, with the goody goody two shoes
Now I'm puttin' em on the spot, I give a ho the blues
I'm touchin' on a cock, I put her on the block
You think I'm startin' over, bitch I ain't never stop
Poppin' the trunk, and testin' the pills
Don't give a f*ck bout where you're from
Don't give a f*ck bout how you feel

Gettin' money is what I do, thought you knew (falling in love with you)(uh huh)
Gettin' money is what I do (thought y'all knew)(falling in love with you)
Gettin' money is what I do (what I do)(falling in love with you, baby)
Gettin' money is what I do (falling in love with you)

I'm the best still in this game, I'm rich bitch like Rick James
Gotta group of hoes in MIA, get a condo in Biscayne
The Louis store I drop bands, the Gucci store I drop bands
Prada store I went ham, my left wrist it cost a lamb
Your girlfriend a groupie like Trident she wanna chew me
Hell naw I ain't cuffin' 'em I'm a dog just like Snoopy
And when I leave the mall it's sold out, err'day shoppin'
Taylor gang, blowin' money, 50,000 on wrist watches
100,000 in a plastic bag, we takin' off, bitch pack your bags
Bitch, I came from hell and nothin', damn right I have to brag
Try me and I'll pop your ass, stupid nigga, get a body bag
All I talk is money ho, rich niggas don't lollygag

Gettin' money is what I do, thought you knew (falling in love with you)(uh huh)
Gettin' money is what I do (thought y'all knew)(falling in love with you)
Gettin' money is what I do (what I do)(falling in love with you, baby)
Gettin' money is what I do (falling in love with you)(uh huh)

Get money is the main reason most people wake up
The root of why most relationships is startin' break ups
While niggas get haircuts, and bitches do makeup
While we take their penitentiary chances, we shake up
It's an everyday struggle for the almighty dollar
Some is in the streets and some is workin' blue collar
Real up in your field and man it make you wanna holla
Say your prayer for a player, amen, inshallah
Been like that, ain't a damn thing change
Money on mind, the red of my brain
Candy paint is gonna drip that stain
Lean on left, the grip of my grain
See ain't a damn thing change but the weather
So If you ain't breakin' bread then we can't even sit together

Gettin' money is what I do
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jordan Houston, Bernard Freeman, Rakim Mayers, Chad Butler, Hector Delgado, Willie Mitchell, E Randle Edward, Yvonne Maria Mitchell, Lawrence D Seymour
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING

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Westside Highway

These days of preference has no complexion
You could be light, dark, mixed or fair skin
Just light the candle, gold sweats down the handle, life's a gamble
And she know, love with me is like a C-note, outside of Reno
A couple white lies, a cup of white wine a Pinot, Italian Grigio
House keys to P.O
Ride from overseas but that's basic
Wasted high on the west side highway
Drunk enough to f*ck with, face it

Hangovers, leftovers in the Range Rover
Shame on her, make up or get a makeover
Thank over, glim fitted start to takeover
When I brainstorm, all the hoes ain't got a thing on her
Audemars, season order like summer fall
I throw the Audemars, then I throw out all the ball
New Dior from the boutique store
Only thing in common that we got is that we want it all
Little cutie pie, saw her looking super fly
More Justin Timberlake on my suit and tie
Try to scrutinize, cause I keep two inside
Suicides, no sir, hoes get the uber ride
Or we can kiss 'til the sun come up
Or, sit on my lap 'til somethin' come up
She ain't really wanna club, I don't really wanna judge
Girl just wanna have fun 'til the fun run up

[James Fauntleroy:]
On the high way to my place, it's higher than you ever been
By to my way, we be all day, me, you and all your friends
In love, f*ckin' in love
Just too much

These days of preference has no complexion
You could be light, dark, mixed or fair skin
Just light the candle, gold sweats down the handle, life's a gamble
And she know, love with me is like a C-note, outside of Reno
A couple white lies, a cup of white wine a Pinot, Italian Grigio
House keys to P.O
Ride from overseas but that's basic
Wasted high on the west side highway
Drunk enough to f*ck with, face it

[James Fauntleroy:]
On the high way to my place, it's higher than you ever been
By to my way, we be all day, me, you and all your friends
In love, f*ckin' in love
Just too much
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher

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Better Things

(Uh)
Don't give a f*ck about your man
I'm just seeing what it's hitting for
(Bitch, I'm sayin') How you fronting on the kid though?
You should f*ck with me girl
You know what you need girl
See I got used to livin' life up on my own, yeah
And searching, lovin' for a wife to call my own, yeah
It's all I think about at nights when I'm alone, yeah
Swear that I can't get no rest in California

Uh, uh, uh

Swear that life is just a whole bunch of vices
Niggas biting off of my shit, my dick
Stay up in your chick ride stick without a license
Tell her hold on like some vice grips
Might just call her, let her ride with a baller
Look up on her face was priceless, wonder what my type is
Well tonight Mrs. lightskin with a light mix, or a light switch
White chick, darkskin complexion and she righteous
I take a dyke chick if she like dick
I kissed the dyke chick and I liked it
F*cking each and every Katy Perry for the night bitch
Light this

Light it light it, puff it puff it, pass it, pass it (yeah)
(Moving on to better things)
Bless, sit back and relax one time, clear your mind (can't feed this addiction anymore)
'Bout to send me back to my old ways (moving on to better things)
Know what I'm sayin' (can't feed this addiction anymore)
Yeah, you know just G mackin' and stackin' (talkin' bout)

I've been puffing, rolling up
Cop a lot and pourin' up
Plus my niggas know the plug
A generation's thrown on drugs

I swear that bitch Rita Ora got a big mouth
Next time I see her might curse the bitch out
Kicked the bitch out once 'cause she bitched out
Spit my kids out, jizzed up all in her mouth and made the bitch bounce
Ride with a nigga mane, and you know I stay fly like the Jigga mane
And it figures, 'cause here is something you can't understand
How I could just kill a man, anyways
Nowadays everybody's stressed, yes
Animosity is better off your chest, yes
Everybody want to stay blessed, stay fresh
Take a nigga threats, but I'm up next, take debts

Light it light it, puff it puff it, pass it, pass it (yeah)
Inhale exhale, relieve your mind of stress (moving on to better things)
Smoke some one time for your boy A$AP (can't feed this addiction anymore)

I've been puffing, rolling up
Cop a lot and pourin' up
Plus my niggas know the plug
A generation's thrown on drugs
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andrea Estella Hernandez, Bobby Caldwell, Bryan Matthew Ujueta, Eric Michael Cardona, Frans Mernick, Gabel D'amico, Jimmy Mccracklin, Larry Muggerud, Lowell Fulsom, Rakim Ma, Senen Reyes, Udbhav Gupta, Gabel Mullen D'amico, Zach Perry Yudin, Rakim Mayers, Frans Chaim Mernick, Louis M. Freeze, Larry E. Muggerud
Copyright: Lyrics © DOMINO PUBLISHING COMPANY, BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Royalty Network, Songtrust Ave

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Ms

What's this I see?, niggas tryna act like G's
Got A$AP, got Fergy with me
It's a new day, no Black Eyed Peas
That's that shit, mhm mhm, yeah, that's that shit
(You ain't got no Flacko in your Serato?)
Mothaf*cka better flash that shit
Niggas drink quarts of the Clicquot
Bitches sniff raw of the kilos
Flacko makes sales of the flico
She knows, went to ATL for my C-Note
'Member, I ain't ever have no home
Now I got a penthouse and a beach home
Back when I was rockin' least (2 Chainz!!!)
I was trappin' off at least like three phones
Me and Yams made the plan
Then I paid myself and I gave myself advance
Way before I became myself
I'd like to thank myself because I made myself the man
It's like lately I ain't myself
I'd rather hang myself before I play myself
I tell her, "throw on the dress with the pinstripes"
Know the one that fit the booty all skin tight, that's right
Yeah, you that shit, mhm, mhm, yeah, move that shit
Frontin' like you did it for the fellas
Get all the bitches jealous when you do that shit
But my neck is gold, the rest is froze
Sex and hoes, best of both
Girls and girls, perpetual
Sippin' slow, Texas throwed
Comma, I'm about decimals
Chill and get faded
I'm surprised that we made it
Young niggas know the sky's the limit
All I ever wanna do is chill and get shaded
Chill and get faded
Shit, I'm surprised that we made it
Nowadays stress overrated
All I ever wanna do is chill and get shaded

I wanna see you take it all off
And she just wanna make it harder
And we just end up taking longer
Can't impress with them diamonds though, them diamonds

Talkin' about M's
Talkin' bout M's, nigga, M's
Make 'em talk about, make 'em talk about M's
Nigga, talkin' bout M's
Nigga, talkin' bout M's
Nigga, talkin' bout M's
Make 'em talk about, talkin' bout M's, nigga
Talkin' bout M's

It's like lately all I seem to think about is M's, nigga
Talkin' 'bout M's
See the same thing all up in my bank account
M's, nigga, talkin' 'bout M's
And my YouTube account say the same amount
M's, nigga, talkin' 'bout M's
Finna go in, go ham like Em
Flacko do him, tell them worry 'bout them
But I don't even trip though
Bruh bruh, yeah I'm really with the shits though
My my, I get hypnotized when them hips go by
Those tits, those thighs (right)
Do that shit, mhm, mhm, yeah, do that shit
Do it like you got a point to prove to any chick
Any dudes that you that bitch

I wanna see you take it all off
And she just wanna make it harder
And we just end up taking longer
Can't impress with them diamonds though, them diamonds

Talkin' about M's
Talkin' bout M's, nigga, M's
Make 'em talk about, make 'em talk about M's
Nigga, talkin' bout M's
Nigga, talkin' bout M's
Nigga, talkin' bout M's
Make 'em talk about, talkin' bout M's, nigga
Talkin' bout M's
[x2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher

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Dreams (Interlude)

Yeah, yeah, yeah
It's good
Oh shit
Drugs, my brain is on drugs
Mushrooms, LSD, marijuana

Light that shit
Oh shit
I'm f*cked up
Pass that shit

This is every heavy drug, that's known at every level
This is assault with deadly metal bumpin' heavy metal
Do this for myself, of course my hood and every ghetto
Paper pushin', paper petal, 'cause I heavy petal
It's is nigga flowin' through my blood and every vessel
Time is money, so I saved the load on every bezel
I just had a dream, I dipped my watch in canary yellow
I woke up and then I bought that bitch in every yellow
Let get back to business, my fits Prada for my devil
'Cause life's a bitch with red lipstick and high stilettos
Flacko jumpin' fences from pigs, with 'em them biscuts
I hypnotized my 6, but my .38 was kinda special
What a life this is, what a sight this is
Where the darks and the light skin kids
Get along with the white percents
All alike when the lights go dim
On a righteous pass, where you don't look back
Nigga spark your cig, niggas light your hash
Niggas light your spliff, where you puff, don't pass, just sit

I just had an epic dream like Dr. King
Police brutality was on my TV screen
Harmony, love, drugs and peace is all we need
Harmony, love, drugs and peace is all we need
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Rakim Mayers, Anders Holm, Frans Mernick
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave

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Everyday

Everyday I spend my time
Drinking wine, feeling fine
Waiting here to find the sign
That I can understand
Yes I am

So everyday I spend my time
Drinking wine, feeling fine
Waiting here to find the sign
That I should take it slow (here I go)

Off again, there he go to another dimension
My mind, body, soul imprisoned
My eye probably going ballistic but listen
I'm missing a couple of screws, they ain't never do drilling
True, you been sipping away at the truth
Through a side of wisdom ado (do-do)
Rolling through, hitting switches, rolling ditches, blowing kisses
To the bitches, holding biscuits, what's the business
Beat the system, co-defendants, blow the sentence, go to prison
Go to church and pray to father, Lord forgive us
And only God can judge me and he don't like no ugly
I look so f*cking good most dykes'll f*ck me buddy
Yeah I'm a piece of shit, I know I plead the fifth
I tell her holla if ya need some dick
But the devotion its getting hopeless
But hold it, I'm getting close as my soul is, I'm seeing ghosts
A solo is now a poet, hypnosis overdose on potions
Adjusting to the motions and getting out all my emotions

Everyday I spend my time
Drinking wine, feeling fine
Waiting here to find the sign
That I can understand
Yes I am

So everyday I spend my time
Drinking wine, feeling fine
Waiting here to find the sign
That I should take it slow (here I go)

This type of shit
Make a nigga wanna flip September through August
This type of shit got 'em busting off the clip
In the middle of the office
And a message to the bosses
The Misfits' new outfit is on the blog list
Gorgeous hoes, keep the saying that they cost it
For the Porsche's get 'em nauseous
Plus I ain't even mad yet, niggas caught me in a good mood
Paparazzi wanna nag a nigga chillin' at the bag check
Wanna show me in my good shoes
When papa got the brand new bag, Flacko got the brand new rag
That's good news, hood dudes usually don't look like you
How I'm finna get a deal and come back and the whole hood look like you?
Screaming, "Pimp Squad, hold it down!"
Can't drive, bitch I'm legally blind bitch
If I leave or die, it's up to me to decide
Shit niggas copping guns like they legal to buy
The only key to survive in getting a piece of the pie
Is to agree with them a lot or just believe a façade bitch
And I'll be fine just-a drinking my wine bitch

I got the love birds chirpin' at the window
But I don't need love no more
I'll be fine, sipping wine
Taking time slow

I got the love birds chirpin' at the window
But I don't need love no more
I'll be fine, sipping wine

Everyday I spend my time
Drinking wine, feeling fine
Waiting here to find the sign
That I can understand
Yes I am

Everyday I spend my time drinking wine
Feeling fine
Waiting here to find the sign
I don't care if I ever know, where I go

I got the love birds chirpin' at the window
But I don't need love no more, oh no
I'll be fine, sipping wine
Taking time slow

I got the love birds chirpin' at the window
But I don't need love no more, oh no
I'll be fine, sipping wine
Taking time slow
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: David Bentley, Mark Ronson, Rakim Mayers, Frans Chaim Mernick
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave

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Back Home

Gotta find my way back home
I've been away too long
Gotta find my way back home
I'm moving

War Lords, we all Lords, but we your Lords
Tryna find home, next stop is the Waldorf
Past the racism and fake-ism
Type of hate that make you feel worse than a rape victim, raw dogs
You other rappers mad soft, mad I rap my ass off
They throwin' mats off, till I go bath salt
On wax, spitting heat to melt the wax off
I'm Mr Miyagi and Issey Miyake
Asshole flow, f*ck name brands, past logos
Now I'm onto grand raps, hands so low, uh
It's like my fashion style is the life saver
Guess she wasn't satisfied with titties that Christ gave her
Bragging that her new ass shots is a life changer
Head so good on that girl that I might pay her, or nah?
Super laid back cat, opposite of fat black, Al Capone
Tell them lil' niggas Flacko home

Gotta find my way back home
I've been away too long
Gotta find my way back home
I've been away too long
Gotta find my way back home
I've been away too long
Gotta find my way back home
I've been away too long

Father, Lord forgive me as I load up the semi
Roll through the city, that Joseph is in me
Hold it, don't load it, reload it
On plenty, any foe or
That ever voted against me, dissed me
Pissed me off then tried to hold it against me
Or wish we off the worst luck that ever hated
Never hesitated, the designated all of the wrong they did me
You stored in my memory all of the doors that I thought of
Means more from my enemies
Sippin' holy water like it's bore from my kidneys
Load the smoke like a chimney, make a toast for the memories
Make a toast for the henny, it's the best for the remedies
Energy, synergy, frienemies, industries
Finna get advantage on him and his nemesis
Bitches been sniffing (Flocko Jodye season, bitch)
If I, if I ain't the greatest, bitch I'm one of em
How in the f*ck could you front on em
My old ho beefing, my ex won't be friends
Bronson told me not to eat ham, rest in peace Yams

Rest in peace Yams, RIP A$AP Yamborghini (gotta find my way back home)
We gon' take it up town one time (I've been away too long)
We gon' take em back, show em how me do (gotta find my way back home)
They call me Pretty Flacko ladies and gentlemen (I've been away too long)
I'd like to introduce Pretty Flacko Sr (gotta find my way back home)
Yasiin Bey (I've been away too long)

Magnum spectacular, black man megalas
Shine amethyst, fly champion, it's like that again
What's happening? Mathematics master blin'
Flacko season, all day, erryday
Ask me how it's going, I tell em on and on and on and on and
You led me out to Arizona
Steady flowing, staying golden
Sand cover, ready Rover
Flacko glowing in that Owens, that's how it's going (gotta find my way back home)
Awareness to the areas, familiar with the routes (I've been away too long)
Travellin' man, moving through places space in time (gotta find my way back home)
In a country called Earth (I've been away too long)

Nah'mean?
These tacky ass muh'f*ckers be in the pictures
Wearing all types of motherf*ckin' red and green stripes
Over accessorizing out this motherf*cker

We from Harlem, we gave y'all motherf*ckers this wave
Grab y'all surfboards, 'cause y'all got your boogie boards right now out this motherf*cker
Y'all just gon' keep watching us at the beach shore
With your motherf*ckin' khakis rolled up
With your chancletas in your hand
And we just gon' keep surfing on this motherf*cker

Straight up
It's ya' boy, A$AP Yams, Yamborghini
Yo Rock man, let these motherf*ckers know what it is
Out this motherf*cker
A$AP, bitch
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frans Chaim Mernick, Rakim Mayers, Thelonious Martin, Victoine Siriwa, Dante Terrell Smith, Darryl Damien Washington Jr., Malcolm Joshua Martin, Melvin Howard Steals, Mervin Steals
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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At.Long.Last.A$AP Info:
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At.Long.Last.A$AP

At. Long. Last. ASAP (stylized as AT.LONG.LAST.A$AP) is the second studio album by American rapper ASAP Rocky. It was released on May 26, 2015, by ASAP Worldwide, Polo Grounds Music, and RCA Records. The record serves as a sequel from Rocky's previous studio effort Long. Live. ASAP (2013). The album's executive production was provided by Danger Mouse, mentor ASAP Yams and Rocky himself, featuring production by Rocky and Danger Mouse, as well as a variety of several high-profile producers, including co-executive producers Hector Delgado and Juicy J, Jim Jonsin, FnZ, Frans Mernick, Kanye West, Thelonious Martin, and Mark Ronson, among others. The album features guest appearances from Bones, Joe Fox, Future, Schoolboy Q, Kanye West, Lil Wayne, and A-Cyde, among others.

At. Long. Last. ASAP was supported by three singles: "Lord Pretty Flacko Jodye 2 (LPFJ2)", "Everyday", and "LSD". The album received generally positive reviews from critics and debuted at number one on the US Billboard 200. It is Rocky's second US number-one album. The album was certified platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA).
Performed By: A$AP Rocky
Genre(s): Hip hop, psychedelic rap
Released: May 26th, 2015
Year: 2015

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