A$AP Mob - Gotham City (Feat. A$AP Ferg, A$AP Twelvyy & A$AP Nast) | Текст песни

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• A$AP Mob
• Gotham City (Feat. A$AP Ferg, A$AP Twelvyy & A$AP Nast)

[Hook: A$AP Ferg]
Point em out where he at, chrome nine point the Mac
Sit him down, in the trap, four pound for the strap
Big guns go BRAP! A$AP, where it's at
Real niggas all black, sip lean so relax

[Verse 1: A$AP Ferg]
Young Trap Lord, dime of the purp
Ride or die boy, nigga get murked
Pull a nine boy, play with the dirt
Laying on who sleep in the earth
She feel on my clothes, she lifting her skirt
She say she love coke, she sniffin the work
Semi-auto Tec, guns go flur
Bang, bang-bang and another one squirt
Givenchy my body, Ksubi my colleagues
Versace, my eyelids, but it Yves Saint-Laurent me
Twelvyy in Huraches, and Margiela on Rocky
Yohji Yamamoto for Ty Nast and Ty Beats
Fuck bitches that's on me, wack bitches move kindly
Last niggas of a dying breed, yeah me, myself, and Irene
Niggas hear them sirens when that four-fif' and that nine squeeze
China bitch sip sake, while I chop that ass with that Tommy
[Hook: A$AP Ferg]
Point em out where he at, chrome nine point the Mac
Sit him down, in the trap, four pound for the strap
Big guns go BRAP! A$AP, where it's at
Real niggas all black, sip lean so relax

[Verse 2: A$AP Twelvyy]
We all want that Meech money, gold grill make ya speak funny
My eyes open cause the streets hungry
A New Jack fuckin' Gee money
Niggas dead over sneak money, shit ain't sweet, honey
The streets love me, white Airs and a peach rugby
I go hard cause them niggas thought the least of me
I'm in the hell yeah that bitch made a beast of me
Hold your crib, while your bitch make a feast of me
I'm a greedy nigga stuffin' my face
Gettin' money, fuckin' bitches, yeah, them stuck in my ways
'bout to turn 23 but I give zero fucks
Niggas wanna sign me, tell them niggas zero up, wassup

[Hook: A$AP Ferg]
Point em out where he at, chrome nine point the Mac
Sit him down, in the trap, four pound for the strap
Big guns go BRAP! A$AP, where it's at
Real niggas all black, sip lean so relax

[Verse 3: A$AP Nast]
It's a pistol poppin' business nigga mind ya own
Expensive taste in guns, shorty's coppin' chrome
I'm in love with a chopper dog, hit 'em, get 'em, split 'em
Turn a fuck nigga into a bowl of pasta dog, I'm not at all
A nigga to be fucked with, shorty got the hammer, niggas can't touch this
Moms got the biscuit, dad own a musket, gone off a substance
Middle finger up to the bitch who would fuck shit
Living in a world where young niggas run shit
All over something, but it's really nothing
Go on with the fuck shit, young niggas run this all

[Hook: A$AP Ferg]
Point em out where he at, chrome nine point the Mac
Sit him down, in the trap, four pound for the strap
Big guns go BRAP! A$AP, where it's at
Real niggas all black, sip lean so relax

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