A$AP Mob - Trillmatic (Explicit) ft. A$AP Nast, Method Man | Текст песни

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• A$AP Mob
• Trillmatic (Explicit) ft. A$AP Nast, Method Man

[Intro]
Yo, yo-yo, yo
90's era Nasty, yeah
Yo, Ty Beats!

[Verse 1: A$AP Nast]
I need some time alone
Cold, my rhymes will turn your mind to stone
That's the work of satan niggas be hating but I'm a pot of gold
This ain't just me rapping it's real and something you gots to know
Catch a mark nigga hating, get him a casket, that bastard's 'bout to go
Whoa, Nasty baby I'm crazy, the 90's raised me
I'm just as smart, probably smarter than half the cats who play me
Brazy, dropping miss daisy, hit on my strap
In my zone, mind on my money like where that shit at?
I'm all alone, that's my only hope
And be damned if I'mma chase that with some phony homes, on the real
It be the ones that say, \"We got this, that you ain't alone\"
As long as I'm here to pull out the Glock 9 and cocked it
He mad you got rich but on the low you should've watched him
Cats conniving, head first into the livest object
\"That was your man, now you 'bout to die quick\"
Over some fly shit, you feel reminded of your fast-life ventures
And winters, blinded 'til the FLASHLIGHT enters

[Hook: A$AP Nast]
I got a funky-funky style with a funky swag (x2)
I bought the funky-funky Nikes got the hat to match (x2)
I got a funky-funky style with a funky swag (x2)
And when I kill 'em with the flow, ain't no coming back (x2)

[Verse 2: Method Man]
I got a poor man's panache, I be stretching the cash
I'm a little passive aggressive, you get a stretcher when I'm mad
For the line, manic depressive, rappers stressing me bad
Got too many less than impressive rappers left in my path
Better yet, we gon' leave 'em left in the past
Someone slides, this time I ride, you get left in the back
Who am I? I'm a titan so be expecting a clash
Start to waving arms at you, you'd think I'm catching a cab
No questions cause the answers [?] ass
Look at Meth, breaking bad like he cooking meth in the lab
Still a lethal weapon but try and bless him with math
Rappers never learn their lesson so I ain't letting 'em pass
I ain't letting 'em brag, I ain't letting 'em swag
Fuck swag, just being blunt, while I'm plucking my ash
Y'all ain't up in my class in the building
It's A$AP Meth, quick to kill 'em, that's an ASAP death

[Hook: A$AP Nast]

[Verse 3: A$AP Nast]
Straight out the back, dog, I'm Shaq strong, I'm breaking backboards
Draped in Tommy, my bitch beside me, young god body
I play the back of clubs, click a file, young as a [?]
Fools get rowdy, ain't nothing dumb, my guns from Saudi
High off the Maui, don't trip your weed, rolling the finest
You know the El Sucio Guapo, I'm head honcho
I sport the poncho, connects with Sandro, the illest y'all know
Killing 'em pronto, my funky fresh is filthy, designer
But check my rhymes though, my verse is like atomic bombs, yo
Haters like side hoes, I peel off in the illest Tahoe
Watch out for potholes, H leaning, that's why he drive slow
Nast Diablo, the 90's era shit in effect
Clowns be watching, best protect ya necks

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