A$AP Rocky - Shoot Ur Stylist (Feat. Wale)

Intro:
What's behind the other door?
PD
Ohh, no more silence
Don't kill this thing we got called love

Verse-1:
Then I need that Raf, then I need Balmain
My partner got his pockets broken, when he sell cocaine
Man, I need a chain, Supreme and the Palace
Just a young nigga that will shoot your favorite stylist
(Imitates gun noises)
Hey, these girls out here drooling
You boys out here look foolish
Like what the fuck y'all doing?
I don't need no valence (No)
Yeah, I know it's childish (Yeah)
I'm just a young nigga that will shoot your favorite stylist
Cat burglar on the cat walk
Pretty, even when my mask on
Fucked up stylist in a black arms
Shoot your stylists in his backbone
In the street, full of backstabbers
Fashion niggas be swag jackers
Y'alls dressing like backpackers
Ask them why they wear their hat backwards
Bad rappers, dress as backwards
Ask them all who made rap classic
Ask them all who made black classic
They all credit, like back taxes
Half black bitch, mad black whip
Who, who, who, yeah bad fashion
Zoom, zoom, zoom, fast asshole
All booty, just backstabbers

Chorus:
Shoot your favorite stylist, I'm a fashion killa (Huh)
Shoot your favorite stylist, I'm a fashion killa
Fuck your favorite model, I'm a fashion killa
Wear your favorite fabrics, I'm not an average nigga (Boss)
Shoot your favorite stylist, I'm a fashion killa
(Yeah, Florida-Virginia)
Niggas look so childish, when I'm on the liquor
(I modified this shit forever)
Shoot your favorite stylist, I'm a fashion killa
(Don't ever forget it)
Fuck your favorite model, I'm not your average nigga
(Um, might bring Mike James in here, no)

Refrain:
I'm like Valentino, yeah man
Where's your desert eagle, yeah man
Jacket might piss them off, yeah
Why you think they call it Sadapico, God damn

Verse-2:
I'ma uber hoes in your Harlem, Bari
Finna catch a body
Put a few more hoes in your stupid clothes
Take 'em off and pawn them like
This dr, for the lowess Tay James for the low
My shooters OG, your shooters really old
Kill 'em all, kill 'em all, god damn
Your in the mall, I'm in the mail right here
Dressed up, must have left your wardrobe in your house
Nigga, my clothes in the morgue right now
Too style, bro style, back
Pool party, nose to a rat
Left 'Ye, made late nights
Made to run the game like that
Swear to god, my money longer than a model bitch
Her hair flowing (shoo)
Credit card, I'm bout this chopper, drop the Glock
You prolly won't see the story up close
Blow more, hell yeah
Doubling, hell yeah
I mean, my section 8, joke, and I ain't getting welfare

Chorus:
Shoot your favorite stylist, I'm a fashion killa (Huh)
Shoot your favorite stylist, I'm a fashion killa
Fuck your favorite model, I'm a fashion killa
Wear your favorite fabrics, I'm not an average nigga (Boss)
Shoot your favorite stylist, I'm a fashion killa (Huh)
Niggas look so childish, when I'm on the liquor
Shoot your favorite stylist, I'm a fashion killa (Huh)
Fuck your favorite model, I'm not your average nigga

Outro:
When love comes calling
Don't look back
When love comes calling
Don't look away
When love comes calling
Don't look back
When love comes calling
Don't look away