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Ghost
Jaden, A$AP Rocky
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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Yeah, yeah, yeah
If I want brand new Raf, I'ma hit up Raf
If I want Gucci bag (what?) I'ma hit Alessandro ass (what?)
If I want Louis bags (what?) I'm callin' Virgil fast (yeah)
Kim Jones, let me pass, you payin' too much tax
Rick Owens on my racks (racks)
Rick Owens on my racks
Rick Owens on my back 'cause Lamy threw me that
Loewe on my tag, thank you, Johnny, Kate, and Mack (Mack)
Secure the diamonds on me, homie, I ain't takin' that (that)
Secure the bag for me, for me, for me, for me (me)
I got the cash, it's stuffed in the stash that you'll never see, like geez
They 'bout to spray in the broad day
Febreze, Febreze, Febreze (Febreze)
My niggas is blessed and we ain't even sneezed
Capisce, like geez, Louise
Yeah, runnin' and runnin' and runnin' away
It's like we in Biscayne Keys (keys)
Rollin' around in the wings (wings)
When she get the keys, she say pretty please (yeah, yeah)
Misfits put on a fleece (fleece)
I had to read the release (uh)
I had to re-up the lease (lease, uh)
Not gonna deal with you niggas, I needed some peace (some peace)
You wasn't fuckin' with me (me)
But then Flacko told me everybody would see, and they did
Water on me, got me feelin' like I'm drownin'
Lookin' for my lake, I think I just found it (lake, lake, lake)
The fuckin' audacity
To take a jab or a stab at me (what?)
The feelin' of feelin' a masterpiece (huh)
Gold grill in, I'm Master P (yeah)
On TV like half the week (yeah)
If I step out of my buildin', this shit will start feelin' like fashion week (yeah)
With a new flow for the after-mes (yeah)
Now tell 'em, run to the factory
Runnin' the factory (yeah, yeah)
My new girl is mad at me (yeah, yeah)
She is an actress, cheese, so I call her, "Her Majesty" (yeah, yeah)
She all in the magazines (wow, wow)
I would be mad too (mad)
All of this accuracy (yeah)
Sorry, I had to
Dance in the club for me, for me, for me, for me
She just pullin' up, but please believe, she finna leave
Flacko say you a C, LV bag, gotta stuff a hundred G's, yeah (woo, yeah)
Motocross patch on her jeans, you niggas still wanna run with t-shirts (yeah)
Find me a baby in Paris, I'm callin' her parents to get her a Visa
I'm in and out of the country, no matter what country, I throw them a lease, yeah
Yeah, we just pull up and blow out his speakers
Yeah, meet with the gangsters and the tweakers
The G's who run from police (huh)
My homies who home on release, yeah
Yeah, thanks to Kim K, they roamin' the streets
Shout-outs to Obama and Meek
Came home and then bought a Patek (yeah, uh, yeah)
Like what do you mean? Don't roll up on me (uh)
The heat in the jeans, please, have the same energy when we eat
Huh, bleep that shit
They wakin' up out of they sleep (woo)
Secure the bag for me, for me, for me, for me
I got the cash, it's stuffed in the stash, that you'll never see, I'm ghost (woo)
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