RAF (Original Version)

[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky & Playboi Carti] I done came up (Yeah, ooh) Bustin' down a whole bag (Bag) Broke nigga, step back (For what?) Why don't you peep a nigga's swag? (Yeah) You don't even gotta ask (For 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 (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 (Yeah) It's rare Raf when I wear Raf (Uh) Bare Raf when I wear Raf Might invest into some Raf shares Lil' niggas still share Raf (What?) Yeah and I'm drippin' on racks (Uh) Rick Owens be the tag (Rick) Do the digital dash Yeah I'm boastin', never brag (Yeah) 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 (Back 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 [Verse 2: Quavo] Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons (yah, 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 (yah, 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 him (ooh) [Verse 3: Lil Uzi Vert] Huh? What? Don't want 'em talkin' 'bout the paper I swear to God these niggas be haters (yah) They be hatin', I feel all the vapors Live in cul-de-sac, gon' get that lawn 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 Bet 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 (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 Anna Wintour cool with my mama 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 Give Raf Simons, when I'm giftin' That means sometimes I give it, you know that you want it [Verse 5: Frank Ocean] Sterlin' silver lasers (laser) 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 mint leave Guap is smellin' like it brush teeth Say cheese, see the porcelain Xans and water, see swordfish Backwoods all forestry Raf draggin' on the floor, bitch! Flame thrower in it, in it I'm torchin' the road in these Gucci flames Stuck to the pavement, they glued 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, two, yeah Please, don't touch my Raf Sleep in the grass, Teddy Sleep with the Teddy Quick with the hands, ready Please, don't touch my bag Please, don't touch my Raf Shirt off, I'm cam ready Deadstock in memory Please, don't pop my tag