"RAF" lyrics - A$AP MOB

[Intro:]
(Dun D-D-D-Deal, hey)

[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky & Playboi Carti]
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 (What?)
What are those? What is that? (Yeah)
Please don't touch my Raf (Please don't touch my Raf)
Please don't touch my Raf (What?)
I'm racked up like rappers (Uh)
I'm Raf-d up on camera (That's Rick)
Get knocked out on camera (All this Rick)
Squeeze pump like asthma (Yeah, what?)
It's rare Raf when I wear Raf (Uh)
Bare Raf when I wear Raf (Rick)
Might invest into some Raf shares (All this Rick)
Lil' niggas still share Raf (What?)
Yeah and I'm drippin' on racks (Uh)
Rick Owens be the tag (Rick)
Do the digital dash (All this Rick)
Yeah, I'm boastin', never brag (Yah)
Please don't touch my Raf (What?)
Bought a Kris Van Assche (Yeah)
Alessandro Gucci glasses (Yeah)
J.W. Anderson collab (Uh)
Yeah, she pop it like a MAC (What?)
Yeah, she drop it on the bag (Uh)
I'ma buy another bag (Bag up)
'Cause she always bring it back (Uh)
Yeah, you know how to make it last (Yeah)
Plus, a nigga keepin' tabs (Uh)
I'ma fly first class (Uh)
Quavo hit 'em with the dab (Yeah)
Please don't touch my Raf (Please don't touch my Raf)

[Verse 2: Quavo]
Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons (Yeah, Raf)
Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons (Uh, Raf)
Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons (Ooh)
Do you know how much I'm spendin'? (Huh, ooh)
My closet, it worth 'bout a milli' (Milli', yeah, yeah)
Took the lil' bitch out the runway (Yeah, uh)
Now she naked in the kitchen (Uh)
Raf Simons (Ayy)
All kind of crazy colors (Ayy, ayy)
Livin' color (Colors)
Left wrist, Rollie butters (Ice)
Maison Margiela my sweater (Margiela)
Mama told me never settle (Mama)
Raf Simons, don't lace 'em (It's Raf)
Got your bitch, wanna date her (Ooh)

[Verse 3: Lil Uzi Vert]
Huh? What?
Don't want 'em talkin' 'bout the paper
I swear to God these niggas be haters (Yeah)
They be hatin', I feel all the vapors
Live in cul-de-sac, don't get along
Ooh, right with my neighbors (Yeah)
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)
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, ayy (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 (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 (Yeah)

[Verse 4: Frank Ocean]
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)

[Verse 5: Frank Ocean]
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 O-Z
Parka pockets full of med leaf
Guap is smelling like it brush teeth
Say cheese, see the porcelain (Flair)
Xans and water, see swordfish (Plenty)
Backwoods all forestry
Raf draggin' on the floor, bitch
Flamethrower 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 (True)
I'm coatin' my lungs in the muddy
I'm cold like I'm sick with the flu (Brr)
I cover my face and I'm bloody (Yeah, brr)
That Spring/Summer 2002, two, 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