Take 1 (feat. ASAP Rocky) (Produced By Clams Casino)

[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky]

Tired of these rappers
Tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these [bad word] back-packers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters
I'm sick of phony niggas
I'm sticking to these [bad word]  cause I'm sick of all these sisters
I'm sick and tired of tryna survive
I'm sick and tired of my environment
Sick and tired of feeling deprived and one of kind, when am I climbin?
Sick and tired of your facade and all of your lying and your diamonds
Basically I'm tired, of feeling sick and tired
ASAP, born in money making Manhattan
Every [bad word] on my block wanna be a Main Attrakion
Shout out my [bad word] Squadda, Shout out my [bad word] Mondre
If you disrespect them niggas then I'm polishing the nondre
And I'm coming to your casa for your madre and your padre
Comprende? Most of these niggas been [bad word] or they strangé
They say I sound like Andre mixed with Kanye
Little bit of Max, a little bit of Wiz
little bit of that and a little bit of this
Get off my [bad word] 
[Hook]

I'm in yo hood
You ain't got no ticket
I'm a down to earth [bad word]  we could kick it
Take a hit with me. Take a hit with me
Ain't on stage behind the scenes
I'm probably mixing lean
Chilling with my niggas with my team
Won't you come and take a sip with me?
Take a sip with me

[Verse 2: Squadda B]

(Ay, Ay, Ay)
Once again, Mr. back selling crack
It's an honor keeping real [bad word] music on the map
Street rap's new face sampling with no crates
Doubting myself cause I don't think the world can relate
To my surprise everyone does, so have faith
Half of the other side don't live it, they push play
The young illest alive, Harlem world to the Bay
It feels good waking up to money in the bank
Cause last year it was shoebox and lint
I only write raps just to give you niggas hints
Every verse a gift as you smoke like a chimney
My album coming November, that's "20 Years of Memory"
And that's assuming I'mma live that long
If I don't, don't cry cause I ain't lived that wrong
Just an artist in the purest form I live that song
An artist in the purest form I live that song
Bambino

[Hook]

[Verse 3: MondreM.A.N.]

(Ok, Ok, Look)

Why fuss?
I'd rather [bad word] Treat her like my enemy, I just wanna bust
Seven-deuce, waiting on the bus
Before them boys bending corners tryna make a bus
Tryouts, I'm tryna make the Bucks
Purple in that green got me on stuck
So I two-step, move my feet and keep it pushin'
Always bouncing back, gotta keep the kush in
And that's something fat, like eating all the pudding
ASAP, we gotta slap, bruh, good lookin'
But [bad word] that ASAP where I come from
456, ice city slums
Weed in my pocket, coke in his Tums(?)
Buying swisher sweets no more hunny buns
Fresh white tee, bright like the sun
Only [bad word] round here rocking Mishka

[Hook]