Fashion Killa – Song and Lyrics by A$AP Rocky

0
145

Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Fashion Killa’ by A$AP Rocky. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of A$AP Rocky or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.

Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
‘Cause she a fashion killa, and I’m a trendy nigga
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
‘Cause she a fashion killa, and I’m a jiggy nigga
I said

Rockin’, rollin’, swaggin’ to the max
My bitch a fashion killa, she be busy poppin’ tags
She got a lotta Prada, that Dolce & Gabbana
I can’t forget Escada, and that Balenciaga
I’m sippin’ purple syrup, come be my Aunt Jemima
And if you is a rider, we’ll go shoppin’ like maƱana
Her attitude Rihanna, she get it from her mama
She jiggy like Madonna, but she trippy like Nirvana
‘Cause everything designer
Her jeans is Helmut Lang, shoes is Alexander Wang
And her shirt the newest Donna, Karan
Wearin’ all the Cartier frames
Jean Paul Gaultiers ’cause they match with her persona

Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
‘Cause she a fashion killa, and I’m a trendy nigga
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
‘Cause she a fashion killa, and I’m a jiggy nigga
I said

I see your Jil Sanders, Oliver Peoples
Costume National, your Ann Demeulemeester
See Visvim be the sneaker, Lanvin or Balmain
Goyard by the trunk, her Isabel Marant
I love your Linda Farrow, I adore your Dior
Your Damir Doma, Vena Cava from the store
I crush down with that top down, bossy how I ride ’round
Mami in that Tom Ford, papi in that Thom Browne
Rick Owens, Raf Simons, boy she got it by the stock
She ball until she fall, that means she shop until she drop
And Versace, got a lot, but she may never wear it
But she save it so our babies will be flyer than their parents and

Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
‘Cause she a fashion killa, and I’m a trendy nigga
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
‘Cause she a fashion killa, and I’m a jiggy nigga
I said her pistol go

Scoop back tees, breeze in the coupe
Smiling is your treasure, you’re so well put together
I see bags and rings, jeans and shoes
Spikes and patent leathers if the fabrics match together
How ’bout you and me, me and you
Go away together, we could get away forever
All emotions clashing, thrashing, someone turned the light out
I met my baby, expressed my passion, on my fashion night out

Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
‘Cause she a fashion killa, and I’m a trendy nigga
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
Her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
I said her pistol go (bang bang, boom boom, pop pop)
‘Cause she a fashion killa, and I’m a jiggy nigga
I said her pistol go