R. Cali Lyrics - Asap Rocky

Niggas pistol popping like it's 1999 

I was 9, maybe 10, then again never mind 

Press rewind, back in time, before rappers dropping dimes 

Trap or die, chopping pies, with clichés all in they rhymes 

Now it's Gucci, Prada and anything designer 

Money, power, the whole enchilada 

Commas, dollas, the greens and the guava 

They serve you to your flocka 

If you disrespect that blocka blocka 

Choppas on eavesdroppers 

Fuck these choppas I'm about it 

Grindin' like 2Pac with Biggie Poppa 

Yeah you outer, but I'm hotter (Right!) 

Car jacking, pistol packing 

Mothafuckin' choppers clapping 

Metal jacket automatic magazines head on traffic 

Window smashing, windows crashing 

Pants sagging, fuck your fashion 

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Yeah a nigga run Manhattan 

Back in Cali's where it happen 

It's Gucci, Escada, and anything designer 

Groupies, poppers, they all gonna swallow 

It was probably the robbers, the goons and the goblins 

They hating a lot, medulla oblongata 

Maserati like Atari with no car keys, push to start it 

New Buggatti, Two Bugattis 

Tesstarossa, New Ferrari 

Lamborghini, system bumping 

Me no worried, Rastafari 

This the hardest supersonic 

Systematic, too retarded 

New versace, new apartment 

Bigger closet, newer carpet 

Hit departments, cool it all 

Must set my goal if you accomplish 

Shoot a target, you the target