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About "Long.Live.A$AP" album:
This page contains lyrics from the album "Long.Live.A$AP" by ASAP Rocky, which was released in 2013 and consists of 16 songs.
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[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky]
Feelin’ like a vigilante or a missionary
Tell my A$AP killers get they pistols ready
Send ‘em to the cemetery with obituaries
Don’t be scared, nigga, is you ready?
I been thinkin’ ‘bout, all the Os in my bank account
Extra Os in my bed, ‘round the same amount
Ever since this new star fame came about
Or, even since me and Drizzy started hangin’ out
Young boy, let his gun bang, let his nuts hang
1Train
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Ten gold chains, wood grain propane
Sell the whole thang from the cellphone rang
I’m the dope mane bitches sniffin’ cocaine
All my young niggas know that they could all weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
(Call me, call me, call me) All weigh, all weigh
Angels
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Her pistol gold (her pistol gold)
Her pistol gold (her pistol gold)
I said her pistol gold (I said her pistol gold)
Cuz she a fashion killa and I’m a trendy nigga
I said her pistol gold (her pistol gold)
Her pistol gold (her pistol gold)
I said her pistol gold (I said her pistol gold)
Cuz she a fashion killa and I’m a jiggy nigga
Fashion Killa
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[Hook: 2 Chainz, Drake, and Rocky]
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fuckin problem
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck I got a fuckin problem
I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin problem
And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fuckin problem
If finding somebody real is your fuckin problem
Bring ya girls to the crib maybe we can solve it
Fuckin' Problems
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A rebel I be one day, on that track with Gunplay
Outkast my whole life so I decide to spit like Andre
Beef is on my entrée, Jim & Juice, that’s Bombay
Driving fast the wrong way, I swear life is like a one way
Pussy on a Sunday, fitness on a Monday
My new crib came with a fenshuey in my closets like a runway
Come be my fiancée, she fuck me in a Hondey
My rooftop got a lounge, just sit around and watch her sunbathe
Finna date for 1K, shopping date for 2K
Hoopty ass bitch, made me wait to fuck for 2 days
Ghetto Symphony
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[Hook]
Uh, uh, I said it must be, cause a nigga got dough
Extraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold
Hoes at my shows they be strippin’ off they clothes
And them college girls write a nigga name on they toes
Niggas talk shit ’til they get lockjaw
Chrome to ya dome ’til ya get glockjaw
Party like a cowboy or a rockstar
Everybody play the tough guy ’til shit pop off
Goldie
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Uh
Uh
We used to wear rugged boots, now it’s all tailored suits
Audemar BK for my criminal recruits
Champagne flutes, bumpin rhythm in the blues
My partner Maybach moves, we might end up in the news
Or end up in the tombs, or livin in the boondocks ridin by the whose
I buy, buy it soon
See the situation, we sophisticated goons
Hell
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[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky]
I thought you said you’d never leave
I think back as I took a puff
Know what happens every time you wanna leave
Always come back ‘cause you wanna fuck
Always come back ‘cause you wanna fuss
Holdin’ back, ain’t no turnin’ back when you fall in love
Know what happens every time you speed
Always fall flat ‘cause you wanna rush
So we could take it slow
I Come Apart
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Bitch motherfuckers tryina fake a trip
Sneak diss, you justa make a bail
Now the world won’t take your set
When I met you you was painting nails
Leave the motherfucker laying still, bang him with the stainless steel
Cuz I’m making the order
Love is the altar, pulling it louder
Go get some my soda, you’re bringing a soldier, niggas is washed up
I’ve been down in Florida, shoots out Miami, goes out in Georgia
Been in New Orleans but still in New York, a nigga the talker
Jodye
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Uhh!
I thought I’d probably die in prison
Expensive taste in women
Ain’t had no pot to piss in, now my kitchen full of dishes!
Nose bloody from that sniffin’, your heroin addiction
Trigger finger itching fuck parental supervision
This be that murder business, little Timmy got that semi
I ain’t kidding hide yo kittens, hit yo children with that smith and
A bunch of ignant little niglets, Hard headed, never listen
Purple sippin’, finger twistin’, teeth glisten like it’s Memphis
Long Live A$AP
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UH
Clams Casino Nigga ASAP
[A$AP Rocky Verse 1]
Mr Pistol Popper, Flacko Locked And Loaded
Lifes A Bitch And She Pussy Pop, Know Why? Cause I Got Here Open
That Pussy Soaking, Fuck Is You Promoting?
Yeah You Claim You Rage A Hater[?] Like You Live In Oakland
Am A Rap Town Nigga With The Booth Bag, Intrudoce You Niggas To The New
Swag
LVL
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Uh, Pain
Uh, Pain
Uh, Pain
Uh
So figure up, shining like the star
With your head in the clouds, some fighters shoot you down
Hands on the ground, back against the wall
Tell me who you’d call when no one else around
Pain
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Bloody ink on my past spelled suicide,
Michael Jackson even passed cuz you scrutinize
Fuck illuminati lies, say I’m lucified,
Baptised in the gutter, motherfucker you decide
Cause the ride come with doors that be suicide
Or the thighs on my whores, they be super-sized
Good and bad happen, wars, nigga chose a side,
Now all hail to the Lord like you do to God,
Who am I?
Lord Flacko,
Phoenix
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Uh, yeah, uh, yeah
Uh, yeah, uh
All I think about is life, nights, sippin’ on Sprite
Little codeine, nigga get throwed right
Two blonde dykes wanna kiss all night
I just pray to God that the shit go right
Little arguments in the fist, don’t fight
Fuck a dog ho and the bitch gon’ bite
A$AP nigga, sip Cris all night
PMW
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I swear this famous shit just happened overnight
For sho’ these hoes was so uptight but now they so polite
All I see is fake love, smiles, and overbites
But I’m pimpin’ nigga, Dolemite
I remember when I was like ten, maybe nine
Ricky had a deuce-deuce two shotti pumps with a baby nine
Busta had the rhymes, Puffy had the shine
Bone thugs had more thugs but that was the shit that made me rhyme
Wassup, what’s on your mind? Hol’ up, I’m feeling fine
Locs got me blind, thuggin’ like I’m Eazy-E up in his prime
Suddenly
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Wake up feelin blessed up
Pistol on that dresser
Ain’t afraid to show it, I’ll expose it if I dress up
Riding in that Testa-rossa nigga catch up
Sippin on that syrup, til I’m messed up, like yes sir
So now I’m getting change, people looking at me strange
Like nigga switching lanes, never changed, still the same
We fuck bitches, get paper
You fuck niggas on papers
We walk around with lasers
Wild For The Night
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