[Chorus: A$AP Rocky & Playboi Carti]

I done came up (yuh)

Bustin' down a whole bag (bag)

Broke nigga, step back (what?)

Why don't you peep a nigga's swag (yuh)

You don't even gotta ask (for what?)

What are those? What is that? (For y'all)

Please don't touch my Raf (Please don't touch my Raf)

Please don't touch my Raf (what?)


[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky]

I'm racked up like rappers

I'm Raf'd up on camera

Get knocked out on camera

Squeeze pump like asthma

It's rare Raf when I wear Raf

Bare Raf when I wear Raf

Might invest into some Raf shares

Lil niggas still share Raf

Yeah and I'm drippin' on racks

Rick Owens be the tag

Do the digital dash

Yeah, I'm boastin', never brag

Please don't touch my Raf

Bought a Kris Van Assche

Alessandro Gucci glasses

W. Anderson collab

Yeah, she pop it like a mac

Yeah, she drop it on the bag

I'ma buy another bag

Cause she always bring it back

Yeah, you know how to make it last

Plus a nigga keepin' tabs

I'ma fly first class

Quavo hit 'em with the dab

Please don't touch my Raf Simons


[Verse 2: Quavo]

Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons

Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons

Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons

Do you know how much I'm spendin'?

My closet, it worth 'bout a milli

Took the lil' bitch to the runway

Now she naked in the kitchen

Raf Simons

All kind of crazy colors

Livin' color

Left wrist, Rollie butter (ice)

Maison Margiela my sweater (Margiela)

Mama told me never settle (mama!)

Raf Simons, don't lace 'em

Got your bitch wanna date him


[Verse 3: Lil Uzi Vert]

Huh?

What?

Don't want 'em talkin' 'bout the paper

I swear to God these niggas be haters

They be hatin', I feel out the vapors

Live in cul-de-sac, gon' get that lawn, ooh

Right with my neighbors

Diamonds on my neck and Rollie on

Now Atlanta got all different flavors

Hit that bitch, I'm with my Life Savers

Ooh, feel like Darth Vader

Ooh, I'm a boss, so you know I might Wraith you

Ooh, Raf in my basement

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 these bitches once they got patience

Yeah, fuck these bitches once 'cause I'm famous

Yeah, put my side bitch in Marc Jacob

Ayy, makin' them plays with my label

I get it, I count it, hundred on my table


[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 cut in 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?)

Mix the 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


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