Long Live A$ap
Asap Rocky


Long Live A$ap Lyrics

[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky]
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
Nose bloody from that sniffin', your heroin addiction
Trigger finger itching f*ck parental supervision
This be that murder business, little Timmy got that
I ain't kidding hide yo kittens, hit yo children with
that Smith and
A bunch of ignant little niglets, hard headed, never
Purple sippin', finger twistin', teeth glisten like
it's Memphis
A bunch of hypocritic Christians, the land of no
My Santa Claus was missing, catch you slippin' then
it's Christmas
Motherf*ck 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
Toking on that biscuit till I'm no longer existing
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: A$AP Rocky]
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: A$AP Rocky]
Riding through your city like that motherf*cka mine Or toking on that semi, rob a motherf*cka blind
License plate says wipe me down, car from 1989
But a nigga sits so pretty call that motherf*cker fine
Lost your motherf*cking mind, what's on your mind
niggas talking down
Never talk to cops, make him talk God when I tote that
9, he ain't talking 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 talking 'bout your mom
Cause there's killers in my town, making hits, sniffing
Out committing 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're worthless
Strangers make me nervous, who's that peekin' in my
window with a pistol to my curtains?


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


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these lyrics are submitted by kaan
Songwriter(s): Laura Jane Lowther, Richard Butler, James Scheffer, Michael Mule, Frank Romano, Isaac de Boni, Rico Love, Rakim Mayers
Record Label(s): 2012 RCA Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment
Official lyrics by

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