A$AP Rocky – Fukk Sleep lyrics

(feat. FKA twigs)

[Instrumental]

[Hook: A$AP Rocky]
Fuck ’em, fuck sleep, come clean, zonin’
Can’t forget that I’m golden, can’t forget where I’m going
Fuck popo, police, enemies, fake homies
Can’t forget that I’m a OG, better act like you know it

[Bridge: A$AP Rocky]
Blunt smoke, smoke weed, codeine, cough
Tell that bitch that I’m awesome, better back the fuck up off me
Coco, Selene, Tiffany, she flossy
Ain’t concerned with who worthy, can’t forget that she bossy

[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky]
We house buying surf board just trying to ride the wave
I was cooking up another fucking tidal wave
Had to get entitled motherfuckers out the way
Had to take another title sorry for the wait
Barely ever took a break on, fashion like my time need
More hours in a day, I apologize if I’m late
Doctor Vane whoa
Barley look like I’m awake
Darker shades, bluer veins, bluer money in the bank

[Hook: A$AP Rocky]
Fuck ’em, fuck sleep, come clean, zoning
Can’t forget that I’m golden, can’t forget where I’m going
Fuck popo, police, enemies, fake homies
Can’t forget that I’m a OG, better act like you know it

[Verse 2: A$AP Rocky & FKA Twigs]
I remember I was pooring, I was young and living homeless
Now I rock it Ricky Owens, eyes looking like he rolling
Got new bags under my eyelids, new bags up in my closets
New bags like I went shoppin’, got new bags on new bags
Minds better at seeing two now, needing up on my down time
Hit the waves with the new sound
House tunes but its screwed down
Thats dope (sauce)
Take a sec to thank the lord
‘Nother one to call my folks
Hit my momma on the phone
She like “son you the boss”
Focus, don’t get caught up in the moment
Can’t forget that I’m golden
Don’t forget that I’m chosen

[Hook: A$AP Rocky]
Fuck ’em, fuck sleep, come clean, zoning
Can’t forget that I’m golden, can’t forget where I’m going
Fuck popo, police, enemies, fake homies
Can’t forget that I’m a OG, better act like you know it

[Verse 3: FKA Twigs]
They called me a bitch
Burned me like saffron, my matter is golden
A child of the oldest
My touch is righteous, like virus my Midas
I’m golden
He holds me when I’m present
I’m chosen
So hold me tight I swear
I’m golden

[Outro: A$AP Rocky & FKA twigs]
Fuck ’em, fuck sleep, come clean, zonin’ (Hold him)
Can’t forget that I’m golden, can’t forget where I’m going
Fuck popo, police, enemies, fake homies (Golden)
Can’t forget that I’m a OG, better act like you know it

ASAP Rocky – Money Bags Freestyle

[Intro]
Is this guy serious?
Is this guy serious or what?

[Chorus]
Twenty bands, twenty bands, twenty bands
Twenty bands, twenty bands, twenty bands
Twenty bands, twenty bands, twenty bands
Twenty bands, twenty bands, twenty bands
Let it out, let it out, let it out

[Verse]
I foresee the jealousy all in your eyes for sure
Sure, they don’t want to beef with my physique or my .44
Sure, life is sweet, I’m by the beach, sand all on the feet
By the seat, the time we meet, we’ll leave em’ by the shore
Sure, pop a bean em’ right to sleep sheets of my decor
With privacy, she grind on me and sweep on my rapport, whore
Drama by the front door, pushing out the back door
Trapping out the bando, leave em’ by the trap door
Money bags, money bags
Ten bands, ten bands, ten bands (ten bands)
Drop the babies in the car seat, must be the Courvoisier
Tap on your boussie, valeting Cartier
Car keys to the Marcielago and Courtier
Wake up thankful everyday, feel like Sydney Portier
Ayy ayy, soundbite, soundbite, woo
Cheat code, cheat code, L1, down, right
Damn right, damn right
The nigga who your sound like, sound like
Demons fucking up my focus
Head vultures, precious death, death rows
Pockets full of dead folks
Prada soles full of dead roaches
And some cud I stepped on
Waiting for her to get left
On the same place, dead bodies get left on
But woke niggas get slept on
Broke niggas get flexed on
I really wish she had less on
I might fuck her with a dress on
Scratching on me with her breasts on
We ain’t stopping til’ the next song
Next song, next song, next song

[Outro: Lil Yacthy]
Ten bands, ten bands
Money bags, money bags
Money bags, money bags
Ten bands, ten bands
Ten bands, ten bands
Ricky Owens on me look like Dom Pér
St. Laurents on me, I don’t wear Vans