ASAP Ferg - Let It Go Lyrics

[Intro: A$AP Yams]
Trap Lord season begins, now repent your sins
This Yamborghini on the motherf*ckin' check-in
You know I had to hang-glide through for this one
You know, we at the all-star game right now
Eyes closed (swish) shootin' fade aways from half-court
(elbow in the rim and all that)
(y'all still in the D-League doing, uhh, layup drills)
Ya feel me?

[Hook]
Kill a motherf*cka with the magnum or the 4
'bout a jump snump, nigga, magnum on the road
Body full of bullets when he found him on the road
Lay a f*cker down, spray it at him then reload
This that Fergenstein and I be down to let it go
The semi or the tech, spray it at him the reload
This that Fergenstein and I be down to let it go
The semi or the tech, spray it at him the reload

[Verse 1]
Ride Maybachs like Ross (Ugh)
550 Benz for a Tuarus
Praying for my niggas, they lost
Dyin' on things they [?]
Ridin' on a gang that floss
With a [?] that bucks
Pull a 9 on anything we spark
Menage anything they horse
Pussy so good, need more
Let me get in those drawers
5-0 in the corner store
He heard all them claps with a round of applause
Putting your back and your lung on the floor
Rat-a-tat-tat and you go see the lord
[?] action or pause
Want more sex, all in her jaws
Molly!

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
I'm givin' the mac and you under attack
Spit at your back and you takin' a nap
No heart a be pumpin', your body relaxed
You talk to me dumb and that's how I react
One arm in the air like I'm waving a cap
The nine is a bitch and she makin' it clap
I'm pumpin' a fifth like I'm givin' a dap
Be ready to scrap when you talk to the Trap
(My condolences)
You are now talking to a boss
New bang still ride in the Porsche
2-thou for the wheels, they cost
White gold teeth, no floss
Young trap lord like Doss
Two bitches in the crib, no drawers
She rockin' the mic with her jaws
I told that bitch Nicki Minaj
She pop more pills no cough
When shit get real she stop
Givenchy my bitches
Smoke that [?] and you niggas see God
Gettin' head in the foreign cars
Get the head from the foreign broads
Asta la vista, senor
Pussy ass niggas a see Allah

[Hook]

[Outro: A$AP Yams]
So it's like, "F*ckin' Problems," platinum
(bling, bling) LongLiveA$ap number one album in the country
(bling blow) sold out tours, what's next?
Trap Lord
Let these motherf*ckers have it
Let them know we ain't playing this year
The limb's never been so relaxed, ever
It's lonely at the top; all this shrimp, no one to share it with
We ain't trippin' though
Y'all walkin' 'round with wrinkled silks, looking crazy
Pay your dry-cleaning bill and all that (pay that, pay that)
Cause it's like it ain't even a competition anymore