Текст песни A$AP Rocky - Long.Live.A$AP

[Verse 1:]
I thought I'd probably die in prison, expensive taste in women,
Ain't had no pot to piss in, now my kitchen full of dishes.
Nose bloody from that sniffin', you're heroin addiction,
Trigger finger itchin', fuck parental supervision!
This be that murder business, little Timmy got that semi,
I ain't kiddin' hide yo kittens, hit yo children with that Smith &.
A bunch of ign'ant little niglets, hard headed, never listen,
Purple sippin', finger twistin', teeth glisten like it's Memphis.
A bunch of hypocritic Christians, the land of no religion,
My Santa Claus was missing, catch you slippin' then it's Christmas.
Muthafuck a wishlist, my ghetto was ambition
For my Benjis and my Bentley and them bitches now I gets-gets
On the road to riches, a diamond rings, designer jeans,
Tokin' on that biscuit till I'm no longer existin'.
I wonder if they miss me, as long as I make history,
Now my soul is feeling empty, tell the Reaper come and get me.

[Hook:]
Who said you can't live forever lied.
Of course, I'm living forever, I'll
Forever, I'll
Live long. You can't ever deny
My flaws. I'm living forever, I'll
Forever, I'll
Live.

[Verse 2:]
Ridin' through your city like that muhafucka mine,
Or tokin' on that semi, rob a muthafucka blind.
License plate says wipe me down, car from 1989,
But a nigga sits so pretty, call that motherfucker fine.
Lost your muthafuckin' mind,
What's on your mind, niggas, talkin' down,
Never talk to cops,
Make him talk God when I tote that 9, he ain't talkin' now,
Tell ‘em watch your spine, I mean watch your back,
Better guide your track, better not look back,
Now stay in line, don't step on cracks
So you break her back, I'm talkin' ‘bout your mom.
‘Cause there's killers in my town, makin' hits, sniffin' lines,
Out committin' crimes, wait for shit to simmer down,
Corrupted little minds, 8 and 9, finna shine,
On the grind, do you dirty with that shimmy shimmy ya?
Where they shoot without a purpose, services ‘n hearses,
Kids who ain't deserve it, can't survive a thing, you worthless;
Strangers make me nervous, who's that peekin' in my window with a pistol thru my curtains?

Pretty nigga rich, Flacko be the shit,
In that bitch, know we poppin' so she boppin' on this dick.
Nigga, R.I.P. to Pimp, can't forget Little Flip,
And I take it out to Memphis so shout-out to Triple 6.