RAF (Original Version)

[Intro] (Dun D-D-D-Deal, hey) [Verse 1: A$AP Rocky & Playboi Carti] I done came up (Yeah) Bustin' down a whole bag (Bag) Broke nigga, step back (What?) Why don't you peep a nigga's swag? (Yeah) Ooh, what is that? (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 (What?) And I'm drippin' on racks (Uh) Rick Owens be the tag (Rick) Niggas [?] (All that Rick) Yeah I’m boastin’, never brag (Yeah) Please don’t touch my Raf (What?) Yeah, I catch ‘em like a [?] (Yeah) Yeah, I rock it like a [?] (Yeah) Yeah, I pop it like a tag (Uh) Yeah, she pop it like a MAC (Uh) Yeah, she drop it on the bag (Uh) Yeah, I get another bag (Le’ go) Yeah, she always bring it back (Uh) Yeah, she know how to make it last (Yuh) Niggas [?] (Uh) I’mma fly first class (Uh) Quavo hit ‘em with the dab (Yeah) Please don’t touch my Raf (Please don’t touch that Raf) [Verse 2: Quavo] Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons (Yeah) Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons (Ooh) Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons Do you know how much I'm spendin'? (Huh?) My closet, it worth 'bout a milli' (Milli’) Took the lil' bitch out the runway (Yeah) Now she naked in the kitchen (Ooh) Raf Simons (Ayy) All kinds 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 (Raf) Got your bitch, wanna date her (Ooh) [Verse 3: Lil Uzi Vert] Huh? What? Don't want 'em talkin' 'bout the paper I swear to God these niggas be haters (Yeah) They be hatin', I feel all the vapors Live in cul-de-sac, don't get along 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 But you know that I'm gon' face it Wait, that's the reason that they mad 'Cause Lil Uzi, yeah, he made it, ayy (Yeah) I wore the Raf 'fore I made it, yeah I wore the Raf 'fore I made it, yeah Got that Raf all in my basement 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: A$AP Ant] I get it, I count it Your bitch got talent (Ayy) I get it a stack [?], that’s practice Your bank account under the mattress Your bank account under the mattress I’m fuckin’ her with no attachments [?] [?] Draco caught a [?] [?] Fuck her on a Monday Do a show on Tuesday Take a flight Wednesday Damn, I’m in my bag (Goddamn) Please don’t touch my Raf (Goddamn)