[Intro: Ol’ Dirty Bastard] I’m so happy!.. You know, um... You know, I looked at the crowd and, you know... I looked at my fans and looked at their faces, their expressions. I know that damn well!–We are some partying Mother Fuckers...
[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky] Tired of these rappers, Tired of these jackers, Tired of these dances by these fucking backpackers, And I’m sick of all these hipsters, I’m sick of phony niggas, I’m sticking to these bitches, cause I’m sick of all these sisters, I’m sick and tired of tryna survive, I’m sick and tired of my environment, I’m sick and tired of feeling deprived, Of one in a kind When I’m in my climate, I’m sick and tired of your facade, And all of your lying, And your diamonds... Basically, I’m tired Of feeling sick and tired.
A$AP, Born in money making Manhattan, Every nigga on my block wanna be a Main Attraktion, Shout-out my nigga Squadda, Shout-out my nigga Mondre – If you disrespect them, niggas, then I’m polishing the nondre and I’m coming to your casa for your madre and your padre... Comprendre?.. Most of these niggas been gay or they strangé!..
They say I sound like Andre mixed with Kanye, A little bit of Max, A little bit of Wiz, A little bit of that, A little bit of this, get off my dick! ...
[Hook: A$AP Rocky] I’m in yo hood, You ain’t got no ticket. I’m a down to Earth nigga, we could kick it, take a hit, with me, With me, ~Oh! Take a hit with me, (hit) with me, ~Oh! Ain’t on stage behind the scene, I’m probably mixing lean, Chilling with my niggas, with my team, Won’t you come and take a sip with me?~ (sip) with me?~ ~ Yeah!.. Take a sip with me?~ (sip) with me?~ ~ Yeah!..
[Verse 2: Squadda B] (Ay, ay, ay!) Once again, Mr.Back selling crack, It’s an honor keeping real nigga music on the map!... Street rap’s new face, sampling with no craze, Doubting myself, ‘cause I don’t think the world can relate. To my surprise, everyone does, so have faith! Half of the other side don’t live it, they push ‘play’! The young illest alive, Harlem world to the Bay; It feels good waking up to money in the bank! ‘Cause last year it was shoebox and lint!.. I only write raps just to give you, niggas, hits! Every verse a gift, as you smoke like a chimney, My album coming November, that’s 20 years of memory!.. And that’s assuming I’mma live that long, If I don’t, don’t cry cause I ain’t lived that wrong, Just an artist in the purest form, I live that song. An artist in the purest form, I live that song, Bambino!..
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Mondre M.A.N.] (Ok! Ok! Yeah) Ay! Why fuss? I’d rather fuck! Treat her like my enemy, I just wanna bust! 7 deuce, Waiting on the bus, Before them boys bend the corner tryna make a bust!.. Tryouts, I’m tryna make the Bucks... Purple and the Green got me on stuck! So I 2 step, move my feet and keep it pushin, Always bouncing back, Gotta keep the cushion! And that’s something fat, Like eating all the pudding! A$AP, we got it slap, bruh, Good lookin’! Fuck that; A$AP, where I come from? 4-5-6, Ice City slums! Weed in my packet, Coke in his tongues, Buying swisher sweets–no more hunny buns; Fresh white T, Bright like the sun; Only nigga ‘round here, rockin’ Michigan! ...
[Hook]
[Ol’ Dirty Bastard sample] Straight up! This go out to all you, RAPPERS!.. This go out to them, lil’ darlings, Them lil’ kids runnin around in the schoolyards– I love you~! ... Keep it good!.. Keep it good, kids! ‘Cause you know I love you! ... And I’ll always love you ...