A$AP Rocky – Brotha Man (feat. French Montana) Lyrics

Brotha Man

A$AP Rocky (feat. French Montana)

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"Brotha Man." - A$AP Rocky (feat. French Montana)

Sunday, 25 October 2026, 03:33 am

Album: TESTING

Track No: 09

Young man, brotha, brotha, you gotta fight for somethin'
Stand for somethin', gotta understand God don't make the plays
Stick to it, get through, ride your wave, just keep it true
We'll fight the blues, we'll fight the blues
Brotha man, young man, let me tell you somethin'
Young man, brotha man, brotha man
You gotta fight for somethin', stand for somethin'
That's what the poem told me
It was a greater poet like you know it, but
I'd rather talk about how my neck is frozen, and I
I'd write a song about the banging hoes, and then
Stay up in the bitches while she dozing
When I went to my brotha, told him, "Help me please"
Now we hop out the PJs posted by the P
My old bitch yellin', "Come back, come back
Come back, babe
Said, come back, come back
Come back, come back, come back
Come back, babe"
Harlem nights, quick speed, Godspeed
Speed of light, Grease Lightnin', leather on my six-speed bike
Bicycle tires, icicle diamonds, popsicle stripes
Popsicles slice for the Klondikes
Pop-pop wheelies on the dirty bike, fifteen sellin' China white
Cops stoppin' if you opposite of white
Pop, pop like you opposite of right
Take heed, lil' ****, lowkey, take lead on them ****
Smooth dude riding 'round the boulevard
Back in the days, was on the train
Ride the bus before I ride another **** wave
Beautiful, the water's flat like asses pre-Onika (Yeah)
You the smaller version, you the baby sneaker
Flacko, I wonder how it feel to live or be like you
Album number three and keep it G like Q
Heard you **** get fly like G, like two
Nah, more like four, like three, not two
Shittin' on these **** like P, like U
Drip Raheem and Q, got Hi-C like juice
Mama hubby got life, he got three strikes too
Real **** bleed like me, like you
That's why I got a beam with a green light too
I don't even make a scene, I just swing right through
I'm just stayin' on my Qs and my Ps like soup
Walk in my shoes, follow me like suit
Brotha man, young man, let me tell you somethin'
Young man, brotha, brotha, gotta fight for somethin'
Stand for somethin', gotta understand God don't make the plays
Stick to it, get through, ride your wave, just keep it true
Remember when I went to my brotha, told him, "Help me please"
Now we hop out the PJs posted by the P
My old bitch yellin', "Come back, come back
Come back, babe
Said, come back, come back
Come back, come back, come back
Come back, babe"
You're a cornstar, all you fuck is corn broads (You fucking pop)
Frenchie faux pas 'cause you ain't had no pa
Your deal got catches like an outfielder
Are you, are you, are you?
Getting that God's view from towers, lookin' downward like I'm Donald Trump

Writer(s): Rakim Mayers.

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