[Chorus: A$AP Rocky & Playboi Carti] I done came up (yuh) Bustin' down a whole bag (bag) Broke nigga, step back (what) Why don't you peep a nigga's swag (yuh) You don't even gotta ask (for what?) What are those? What is that? (For y'all) Please don't touch my Raf (Please don't touch my Raf) Please don't touch my Raf (what)
[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky] I'm racked up like rappers I'm Raf'd up on camera Get knocked out on camera Squeeze pump like asthma It's rare Raf when I wear Raf Bare Raf when I wear Raf Might invest into some Raf shares Lil niggas still share Raf Yeah and I'm drippin' on racks Rick Owens be the tag Do the digital dash Yeah I'm boastin', never brag Please don't touch my Raf Bought a Kris Van Assche Alessandra Gucci glasses W. Anderson collab Yeah she pop it like a mac Yeah she drop it on the bag I'ma buy another bag 'Cause she always bring it back Yeah you know how to make it last Plus a nigga keepin' tabs I'ma fly first class Quavo hit 'em with the dab Please don't touch my Raf Simons
[Verse 2: Quavo] Please don't step on my Raf Simons Hoe don't step on my Raf Simons Hoe don't step on my Raf Simons Do you know how much I'm spendin'? My closet worth 'bout a milli Took the lil' bitch to the runway Now she naked in the kitchen Raf Simons All kind of crazy colors Livin' color Left wrist, Rollie butter (ice) Maison Margiela my sweater (Margiela) Mama told me never settle (mama!) Raf Simons, don't lace 'em Got your bitch wanna date him
[Verse 3: Lil Uzi Vert] Huh? Wait Don't want 'em talkin' 'bout the paper I swear to God these niggas be haters They be hatin', I feel out the vapors Live in cul-de-sac, gon' get that lawn Ooh, right with my neighbors Diamonds on my neck and Rollie, oh Now Atlanta got all different flavors Hit that bitch I'm with my Life Savers Oooh, feel like Darth Vader I'm a boss so you know I might Wraith you Ooh, Raf in my basement Yeah pass the gas Bet you know that I'm gon' face it Wait, that's the reason that they mad 'Cause Lil Uzi, yeah he made it Yeah, I wore that Raf 'fore I made it Yeah, I wore that Raf 'fore I made it Yeah, got that Raf all in my basement Yeah, fuck these bitches once they got patience Yeah, fuck these bitches once 'cause I'm famous Yeah, put my side bitch in Marc Jacob Ayy, makin' them plays with my Lego I get it, I count it, hundred on my table
[Verse 4: Frank Ocean] We gon' need a bigger table though Need some cable, tired of watchin' basic Wouldn't sign ya if I had a label That designer on a nigga label fuego Down the bottle, still under the limit I could buy your bitch just off my debit I could buy her, not fuck up my credit Ain't no executives flexin' my blessings Ain't no middleman cut in my blessings I got all of this flick for the Lord's worship You ain't slammin', got the Asbergers I'ma drag that nigga, he deserve it I'ma read his ass like a Labeija Anna Wintour cool with my mama And it's winter cool, need a bomber Plate of ravioli at Obama's right right (Can't you see I'm eating what's poppin?) Mix the ravioli, stuffed with diamonds right right (We don't have the same problems) I get Raf Simons 'cause I'm gifted That means sometimes I get it and don't even want Give Raf Simons when I'm giftin' That means sometimes I give it, you know that you want itTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
