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Underground Killa$

A$AP Mob (ft. A$AP Ferg, Asap Rocky)

LETRA

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Let's get a little... little drawing going on, yeah, that's what it is man
Word up, A$AP Rocky, what up, my nigga? Young King right there
Yeah, I see you, nigga, it's your big brother Chef right here, man
Raekwon, nigga, you know, we got you all day, nigga
I know you got your big brother all day, too, you know, it's all real

At the dice game, on sleeze mode, gun in the road
But count hundreds, sit back my home on my stomach
Who the king boo, eating grapes, send me to 50 states
I pump everywhere I go, I thump plenty spaces
Either I'm in the slums, counting up ones
Shaking down fiends, hopping to the most and one
Besides bagging up, new ratchets
Always in hatchets nigga, the fly bachelor with all those classics
My gun is red eyeball brown, run the town
Black hoodie sweats, no jewels a coupe with some specs
Matching in the million dollar mansion with brans
And it's always love love, just bring your advancing
Bottles from everywhere, hoes run up
Niggas in tennis wear I'm finish the menace, get 'em, yeah
Yo, we in the cut? dogs on them
Stay cocky, peace is real, yo, Rocky!

King of New York with these underground killas
Ride, ride, nigga fuck the niggas, nigga

My uncle Snoop told me keep the biscuit on me
Said they got the scoop on me and they listen on me
Plus my bougie-ass neighbors keep the bitching on me
And the nosy bitch next door call the district on me
And they snitching on me, self-esteem went missing on me
Chip off my shoulder, you can get it off me
But these bitches on me, the other *censored* got a prison story
That Mr. Greedy's just a missing story
Listen wardy, I was on them bitches, pitching sipping, 40's
Mauri kicks and Norreys bitches, all these shorties kissing shorties
Keep division brody, cold world, keep your mittens wordy
Go hard but you kill 'em softly
Pay attention shorty, wonder why I call your bitch a shorty?
It's the way of the world, don't be tripping shorty
Just get your picking shorty, hold your own, keep it pimping brody
Same shit, just a different story

King of New York with these underground killas
Ride, ride, nigga fuck the niggas, nigga

King of New York in my hood we blow up houses
Grenades look like quarter waters sitting on the counter
Silence all you will encounter if you talking 'bout you 'bout it
Thugging noise heating salad, gripping the banger give me callus
Like Pops from the Wayans when I fire
Switching lanes in the Porsche, gotta catch up to my tires
Got cannons like Mariah, goddamn it my Messiah
He done ran into some violence, put him to rest in his pajamas
Twin clips, Pusha T, that's for talking all that malice
In your bitch, I'm a sneaker, she gon' need some new balance
Got Franklins like Aretha, see my money that be piling
And my shiny gold teeth, you can see my money smiling

King of New York with these underground killas
Ride, ride, nigga fuck the niggas, nigga

fuente: musica.com disquito - musica.com

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