ASAP Ferg – Kristi Yamagucci (feat. Denzel Curry & IDK)

[Intro: NickNPattiWhack]
Aw lord baby, she got a flip phone
Damn baby, I been smoking
Been choking and its so potent baby, we high baby
And you got the silver Gucci by my man Ferg, baby
You a giant baby, you steppin’ on these niggas’ necks
Sometimes you gotta just ease that left foot off baby
And then put your right foot on the, on the top of them, baby
And choke them even harder
‘Cause you’s a dawg, you’s fucking [??], these are puppies baby
They can’t fuck with you baby, lord

[Verse 1: A$AP Ferg]
Racks on racks on racks
Dapper Dan all on my back
Double G all on my cap
Monogram on a Maybach
Testing that pussy like Pap (smear)
Eating that bitch from the back (yeah)
Mumble rap all on that cat (yeah)
Lil Pump she makin’ it clap
I’m ’bout to write here me a letter
Tell ’em I’m doing way better
"Plain Jane" the song of the year
I’m busy just chasing the lettuce
I’ma Calvin Klein model on billboards
I did a campaign with the fellas
Adidas done gave me another deal
And Hennessy too, they got cheddar (alright)
Shoot videos in the PJ’s
Then I go hop on a PJ (yeah)
They sending me all these free clothes
Momma just put it on eBay
I run the shit like a relay
Niggas gon’ have to press replay
Yammy say hi to my daddy for me
And Jam Master Jay for TJ

[Interlude: NickNPattiWhack]
Goddamn, nigga
When it be raining outside nigga, you the umbrella
‘Cause that shit just bounce off you with that Gucci
God, nigga I’ma call you Kristi YamaGucci, baby
‘Cause you just all over the fuckin’ world with this shit, baby
Niggas cannot touch you

[Verse 2: Denzel Curry]
Trench coat mob is a Go-Go Gadget
You don’t wanna see a pretty scene get drastic
Fuckin’ with the lords, no Frodo Baggins
Niggas bring your clothes to the screen like a fat bitch
Even though my name is Denzel, no actin’
Pap-pap, puttin’ everything inside a casket
Track that, everything is gonna be a classic
Wrap that, put that bitch inside a prophylactic
When I’m rappin’, got no hard-on, double tappin’
From a city built on coke and pistol-packin’
See you flagging and they packin’ what you lackin’
Take you out and then they act like nothin’ happen
Amnesia got rid of the heater
Back in the hood where they blowin’ on reefer
I follow the light while you follow the leader
Now a nigga overseas where they checkin’ my Visa, look

[Interlude: NickNPattiWhack]
Nah baby, what kinda flip phone you got?
Is that a Nextel baby, Chirp baby
This nigga got a Boost, baby, what the fuck
Nigga, you gotta step it up
You need to get you a trap phone
You need to get one of these fuckin’ Motorola’s
Niggas can’t even track us, baby

[Verse 3: IDK]
Finger roll, finger roll, finger roll, finger roll, dunk, yeah
Ballin’ on my enemies, I ain’t even tying up to punks
Imagine when I tie ’em up, yeah
I shake ’em, they gon’ need a crutch, yeah
And I ain’t talking groupie bitches when I say they got their panties in a bunch
I’m talking niggas, I ain’t talking nada
They ain’t talking figures, gotta be six, seven or better
Tryna get a house, gotta get my bread up
Tryna stay on pace? you gon’ have to step up
Cruising in a Wraith, see if they make a get-up
Pull up to the place, fucked her when we met up
Yeah, I’m getting buzz, but I never let up
I ain’t seen a doctor, but I got my check up, check up, check up, check up, check up
I’m playing chess, you stuck on checkers
That’s why your gang can never check us
They take your chain, and now you neck-less
Check up, check up, check up, check up
I got a check on my watch (wait)
I’m losing track of time ’cause I don’t hear tick or no tock (yeah)

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