| Song | Ghetto Symphony |
| Artist | A$AP Rocky |
| Album | LONG.LIVE.A$AP |
| [Intro] | |
| Do just what I tell you | |
| Don't come in any closer | |
| And no one will get hurt | |
| Cause I don't know how long I can hold my heart in two | |
| [Verse 1: Rocky] | |
| A rebel I be one day, on that track with Gunplay | |
| Outcast my whole life so I decide to spit like Andre | |
| Beef is on my entree, gin and juice that's Bombay | |
| Driving fast the wrong way, I swear life is like a one-way | |
| ************* on a sunday, business on a monday | |
| My new crib came with feng shui and my closet is like a runway | |
| Come be my fiancee, she ************* me in a Hyundai | |
| My rooftop got a lounge, just a sit around and watch her sunbathe | |
| Dinner date for one K, shopping date for two K | |
| Bougie-ass ************* made wait to ************* for two days | |
| Finally got it today, swear to god my mood changed | |
| Top off like toupes, drop off, touche | |
| Yeah, my mouth is full of gold and I'm a city boy | |
| And my outfit was in Vogue, I'm a pretty boy | |
| Bounce, boy, Flacko tell 'em holla at a *************, G | |
| Riding on my enemies, this my Ghetto Symphony | |
| [Verse 2: Gunplay] | |
| Whipping whitney, my mama as a witness | |
| ******* lickin' and locking up my swishas | |
| Once she blow my whistle, she know it's dismissal | |
| Spread the news I'm official, now hop out my foreign vessel | |
| Before I get aggressive forget it, war ready | |
| Already tested, tears and blood invested | |
| 'til my cardiacs arrested and my 40 ounces is empty | |
| Show me what you owe me and a porterhouse with that | |
| Black magic on the tires only I | |
| Rolling down a lonely mile, phony smile | |
| Warrants, police on me now, still touring | |
| And my chain it may slow me down cheer for | |
| Pain, in it's purest form | |
| Don't complain I came to reign from here forward, still noid | |
| So crib got clear doors | |
| Burning planes in my Air Force and all I can see is clear ports | |
| [Verse 3: Ferg] | |
| Since Rocky spit like Andre, I'm gonna kill 'em like Big Boi | |
| These rappers is on my entrée, eat 'em like cookies, Chips Ahoy | |
| Eat enjoy, when I get annoyed, know a couple *************s that'll kill for joy | |
| Either Gunplay, runway, trip avoid, body get found by a lil' fi*************n' boy | |
| Arnold Schwarzenigger, toss a ************* | |
| Like codeine mixed with a roid | |
| Slow punch make a ************* chin collide | |
| Thats for talkin' how fast you could grip a nine | |
| Damn, look how the hollow tip hit his spine | |
| Little mother*******s commit the crime | |
| These *************s got the sidewalk sipping wine | |
| Guess that’s why the ground sip the wine | |
| Pourin liq so I soak in lift and *************ne | |
| Tip tipped and toe I miss the sky | |
| My soul gets cold when my *************s died | |
| So and so, *************s live and die | |
| Beneath shoe soles you will reside | |
| Rappers get a mil' for these freakin' lies | |
| Sign a couple deals for these freakin' lies | |
| How many times in your eyes has a ************* died? Never! | |
| Spittin it like a Beretta, nobody do it better ************* |
| Intro | |
| Do just what I tell you | |
| Don' t come in any closer | |
| And no one will get hurt | |
| Cause I don' t know how long I can hold my heart in two | |
| Verse 1: Rocky | |
| A rebel I be one day, on that track with Gunplay | |
| Outcast my whole life so I decide to spit like Andre | |
| Beef is on my entree, gin and juice that' s Bombay | |
| Driving fast the wrong way, I swear life is like a oneway | |
| on a sunday, business on a monday | |
| My new crib came with feng shui and my closet is like a runway | |
| Come be my fiancee, she me in a Hyundai | |
| My rooftop got a lounge, just a sit around and watch her sunbathe | |
| Dinner date for one K, shopping date for two K | |
| Bougieass made wait to for two days | |
| Finally got it today, swear to god my mood changed | |
| Top off like toupes, drop off, touche | |
| Yeah, my mouth is full of gold and I' m a city boy | |
| And my outfit was in Vogue, I' m a pretty boy | |
| Bounce, boy, Flacko tell ' em holla at a , G | |
| Riding on my enemies, this my Ghetto Symphony | |
| Verse 2: Gunplay | |
| Whipping whitney, my mama as a witness | |
| lickin' and locking up my swishas | |
| Once she blow my whistle, she know it' s dismissal | |
| Spread the news I' m official, now hop out my foreign vessel | |
| Before I get aggressive forget it, war ready | |
| Already tested, tears and blood invested | |
| ' til my cardiacs arrested and my 40 ounces is empty | |
| Show me what you owe me and a porterhouse with that | |
| Black magic on the tires only I | |
| Rolling down a lonely mile, phony smile | |
| Warrants, police on me now, still touring | |
| And my chain it may slow me down cheer for | |
| Pain, in it' s purest form | |
| Don' t complain I came to reign from here forward, still noid | |
| So crib got clear doors | |
| Burning planes in my Air Force and all I can see is clear ports | |
| Verse 3: Ferg | |
| Since Rocky spit like Andre, I' m gonna kill ' em like Big Boi | |
| These rappers is on my entré e, eat ' em like cookies, Chips Ahoy | |
| Eat enjoy, when I get annoyed, know a couple s that' ll kill for joy | |
| Either Gunplay, runway, trip avoid, body get found by a lil' fi n' boy | |
| Arnold Schwarzenigger, toss a | |
| Like codeine mixed with a roid | |
| Slow punch make a chin collide | |
| Thats for talkin' how fast you could grip a nine | |
| Damn, look how the hollow tip hit his spine | |
| Little mother s commit the crime | |
| These s got the sidewalk sipping wine | |
| Guess that' s why the ground sip the wine | |
| Pourin liq so I soak in lift and ne | |
| Tip tipped and toe I miss the sky | |
| My soul gets cold when my s died | |
| So and so, s live and die | |
| Beneath shoe soles you will reside | |
| Rappers get a mil' for these freakin' lies | |
| Sign a couple deals for these freakin' lies | |
| How many times in your eyes has a died? Never! | |
| Spittin it like a Beretta, nobody do it better |