Artist: A$AP Mob Album: Lords Never Worry Song: Gotham City Typed by: AZ Lyrics [Chorus: ASAP Ferg] Point em out where he at Chrome .9 point the mac Sit him down, in the trap Four pound for the strap Big guns go BRAP! ASAP where it's at Real niggaz all black Sip lean so relax Point em out where he at Chrome .9 point the mac Sit him down in the trap Four pound for the strap Big guns go BRAP! ASAP where it's at Real niggaz all black Cozy boy so relax [Verse 1: ASAP Ferg] Young Trap Lord, dime of the purp Ride or die boy, nigga get murked Pull a 9 boy, play with the dirt Layin on who Sleep in the earth She feel on my clothes, she lifting her skirt She say she love coke, she sniffin the work Semi auto Tec, guns go flur Bang bang bang and I bet that one squirt She watchin my body, pursuin my colleagues Versace, my eyelids but it Yves Saint-Laurent me Twelvy in Huraches and Margiela on Rocky Yoji Yamamoto for Ty Nast and Ty Beats Fuck bitches that's on me Wack bitches move kindly Last niggaz of a dying breed Yeah me, myself, and Irene Niggaz hear them sirens When that fo' fif' and that 9 squeeze China bitch sip sake While I chop that ass with that Tommy [Chorus] [Verse 2: ASAP Twelvyy] We all want that Meech money Gold grill make ya speak funny My eyes open cause the streets hungry A new Jack fuckin G-money Niggaz dead over sneak money Shit ain't sweet honey The streets love me right here is in the peach rugby I go hard cause the niggaz thought the least of me I'm in the hell yeah that bitch made a beast of me Hold your crib while your bitch make a feast of me I'm a greedy nigga stuff in my face Gettin money, fuckin bitches yeah them stuck in my ways Bout to turn 23 but I give zero fucks Niggaz wanna sign me tell them niggaz zero up What's up [Chorus] [Verse 3: ASAP Nast] It's the pistol poppin business nigga mind ya own Expensive taste in guns, shorty's coppin chrome I'm in love with a chopper doe Him 'em, get 'em, split 'em Turn a fuck nigga into a bowl of pasta dog I'm not at all A nigga to be fucked with Shorty got the hammer Niggaz can't touch this Mom’Äôs got the biscuit, Dad own a musket Gone off a substance Middle finger up to the bitch who would fuck shit Living in a world where young niggaz run shit All over something, but it’Äôs really nothing Go on with the fuck shit, young niggaz run this all [Chorus]