Текст песни RAF - A$AP Mob feat. A$AP Rocky, Playboi Carti, Quavo, Lil Uzi Vert & Frank Ocean

Dun D-D-D-Deal, hey

I done came up (Yeah)
Bustin' down a whole bag (Bag)
Broke nigga, step back (What)
Why don't you peep a nigga's swag (Yeah)
You ain'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 (For what?)

I'm racked up like rappers (Uh)
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
J.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

Hoe, don't step on my Raf Simons (Raf)
Hoe, don't step on my Raf Simons (Raf)
Hoe, don't step on my Raf Simons (Raf)
Do you know how much I'm spendin'? (Woo)
My closet it worth 'bout a milli' (Yeah, yeah)
Took the lil' bitch to the runway
Now she naked in the kitchen (Ooh)

Raf Simons (Aye)
All kind of crazy colors (Aye, aye)
Livin' color (Colors)
Left wrist, Rollie butter (Ice)
Maison Margiela my sweater (Margiela)
Momma told me never settle (Momma)
Raf Simons, don't lace 'em (Raf)
Got your bitch wanna date him (Ooh)

Huh? Wait
Don't want 'em talkin' 'bout the paper
I swear to God these niggas be haters
They be hatin', I feel all the vapors
Live in cul-de-sac, gon' get that lawn
Ooh, right with my neighbors
Diamonds on my neck and Rollie on
Now Atlanta got all different flavors

Hit that bitch right on with my lightsaber
Ooh, feel like Darth Vader
I'm a boss so you know I might Wraith you
Ooh, Raf in my basement
Yeah, pass the gas
But 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 your bitch once ain't got patience
Yeah, fuck your bitch once 'cause I'm famous
Yeah, put my side bitch in Marc Jacobs
Ayy, makin' them plays with my label
I get it, I count it, hundred on my table

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 cuttin' my blessings
I got all of this flick for the Lord's worship
You ain't slammin', got the Asperger's
I'ma drag that nigga, he deserve it
I'ma read his ass like a LaBeija (Drag)
Anna Wintour cool with my mama (True)
And it's winter fool, need a bomber

Plate of ravioli at Obama's, right, right, right
Can't you see I'm eating (What's poppin'?)
Wrist like 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 it
Give Raf Simons when I'm giftin'
That means sometimes I give it, you know that you want it (Yeah)

Sterling silver lasers (Yessir)
Rubies red, my skin too black to blush
This bitch too rare to bust
Seen her in the iPhone pages
This ain't on the Gram, Wizard of OZ
Parka pockets full of med leaf
Guap is smelling like it brush teeth

Say cheese, see the porcelain
Xans and water, see swordfish (Plenty)
Backwoods all forestry
Raf draggin' on the floor, bitch
Flame-thrower in it, in it (Flame, flame)
I'm torchin' the road in these Gucci flames (Heat)
Stuck to the pavement, they glued (Sticky)

I'm two-point-five million a venue
And twenty-five hundred a tooth
I'm coatin' my lungs in the muddy
I'm cold like I'm sick with the flu
I cover my face and I'm bloody
That Spring/Summer 2002, two, two, two, yeah

Please don't touch my Raf
Sleep in the grass, Teddy
Sleep with the Teddy
Quick with the hands, ready (Ready)
Please don't touch my bag
Please don't touch my Raf
Shirt off, I'm cam ready (Ready)
Deadstock in memory (Memory)
Please don't pop my tag