"RAF" as written by and Quavious Marshall Rakim Mayers....
I done came up (yuh)
Bustin' down a whole bag (bag)
Broke nigga, step back (what)
Why don't you peep a nigga's swag (yuh)
You don't even gotta ask (for what?)
What are those? What is that? (For y'all)
Please don't touch my Raf (Please don't touch my Raf)
Please don't touch my Raf (what)

I'm racked up like rappers
I'm Raf'd up on camera
Get knocked out on camera
Squeeze pump like asthma
It's rare Raf when I wear Raf
Bare Raf when I wear Raf
Might invest into some Raf shares
Lil niggas still share Raf
Yeah and I'm drippin' on racks
Rick Owens be the tag
Do the digital dash
Yeah I'm boastin', never brag
Please don't touch my Raf
Bought a Kris Van Assche
Alessandra Gucci glasses
W. Anderson collab
Yeah, she pop it like a MAC
Yeah, she drop it on the bag
I'mma buy another bag
'Cause she always bring it back
Yeah, you know how to make it last
Plus a nigga keepin' tabs
I'mma fly first class
Quavo hit 'em with the dab
Please don't touch my Raf Simons

Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons
Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons
Ho, don't step on my Raf Simons
Do you know how much I'm spendin'?
My closet worth 'bout a milli
Took the lil' bitch off the runway
Now she naked in the kitchen
Raf Simons
All kind of crazy colors
Livin' color
Left wrist, Rollie butter (ice)
Maison Margiela my sweater (Margiela)
Mama told me never settle (mama!)
Raf Simons, don't lace 'em
Got your bitch wanna date him

Huh? What?
Don't want 'em talkin' 'bout the paper
I swear to God these niggas be haters
They be hatin', I feel out the vapors
Live in cul-de-sac, gon' get that lawn
Ooh, right with my neighbors
Diamonds on my neck and Rollie on
Now Atlanta got all different flavors
Hit that bitch, I'm with my Life Savers
Oooh, feel like Darth Vader
I'm a boss so you know I might Wraith it
Ooh, Raf in my basement
Yeah, pass the gas
Bet you know that I'm gon' face it
Wait, that's the reason that they mad
'Cause Lil Uzi, yeah he made it
Yeah, I wore that Raf 'fore I made it
Yeah, I wore that Raf 'fore I made it
Yeah, got that Raf all in my basement
Yeah, fuck your bitch once ain't got patience
Yeah, fuck your bitch once 'cause I'm famous
Yeah, put my side bitch in Marc Jacob
Ayy, makin' them plays with my label
I get it, I count it, hundred on my table

Sterling silver lasers (yessir)
Rubies red, my skin too black to blush
This bitch too rare to bust
Seen her in the iPhone pages
This ain't on the Gram, Wizard of OZ
Parka pockets full of mint leave
Guap is smelling like it brush teeth
Say cheese, see the porcelain
Xans and water, see swordfish
Backwoods all forestry
Raf draggin' on the, floor, bitch
Flame thrower in it, in it
I'm torchin' the road in these Gucci flames
Stuck to the pavement, they glued
I'm two-point-five million a venue
And twenty-five hundred a tooth
I'm coatin' my lungs in the muddy
I'm cold like I'm sick with the flu
I cover my face and I'm bloody
That Spring/Summer 2002
Two, two, two, two, yeah
Please don't touch my Raf
Sleep in the grass, Teddy
Sleep with the Teddy
Quick with the hands, ready
Please don't touch my bag
Please don't touch my Raf
Shirt off, I'm cam ready
Deadstock in memory
Please don't pop my tag


Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher

"Raf [Multimedia Track]" as written by David Cunningham Christopher Breaux

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

RAF song meanings
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