1 Train Lyrics by A$AP Rocky ft. Kendrick Lamar, Joey Bada$$, YelaWolf, D. Brown, A. Bronson & Big KRIT
[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky]
Feeling like a vigilante or a missionary
Tell my A$AP killers get their pistols ready
Send them to the cemetary with obituaries
Don't be scared, nigga, is you ready?
I've been thinking about all the O's in my bank account
X the O's in my bed, around the same amount
After since all this new star fame came about
Or ever since me and Drizzy started hanging out
Young boy, let his gun bang, let his nuts hang
Transition to a Lamborgini from a Mustang
Drugs slang in the drug game with the hustling
(I know one thing) anything is better than that 1 train
Bag made of Goyard, cheffin' like I'm Boyar-
Dee, probably selling D in your local court yard
Braids like I'm O-Dog, la familia go hard
Down to my in-laws, they outlaws with no law
[Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar]
We outlawed then I bogart, you poor sack I approach that
With a toe-tag, get broke off, in the pro-jects with a skateboard
I roll past and I blaze y'all like "thuu! thuu!" I hate y'all
When the beef cooked, I ate y'all like "Mmm mmm," let's play ball
In a ballpark with all sharks and a blindfold, I rhyme cold
My K hot, your 9 cold, that bark like K9 dro
That ba-na-na clip, straight from the rip
I'll make that shirt say RIP, I'm on some shit
If I'm not the hottest then Hell must've froze over
You thought it was safe then forgot what the code was
I carry traits of a traumatized soldier
Don't look in my face, I might snap, I might choke ya
Spine right out of place, give me dap like you 'posed ta
Darts at your posters, drop nice like this
I metamorph like I'm 'posed ta, I might slice my wrist
Or pretend like a vulture and drop off this cliff
[Verse 3: Joey Bada$$]
Barely even conscious, talking to my conscience
Gettin' deeper in these flows like conches
I'm on my convict, don't drop bars, I drop prisons
Don't sell rocks seen the spectrum through the prisms
Somehow bypassed the bias and the -isms
The violence and the killin', so given
They seen my pigment and thought that was the ign'ance
Unfortunately I am not that type of niglet
But pass the pot let me skillet
Just got back to the block from a 6 o'clock with Jigga
And I'm thinkin' 'bout signing to the Roc
But my niggas on the block still is signed to the rocks
And I swear it hurt me soul
I try to prevail, but when I preach it only hurt their sales
Like you're only gone end up being dead or in jail
But you my nigga, wish you the best for real
[Verse 4: Yelawolf]
When you mention my name amongst other white rappers
Or for that matter, any fuckin' rapper, fuck it, painter
Skater, musician, trailer park dirt ditch diggin'
Burger flippin', eat, sleep, shittin' human bein', you would be in
Trouble to (?) to even look up on me to these others
Cause comparatively speakin', my reach is beyond the bubble
That they put me in, my vision's beyond the Hubble's
I huddle with Nubians, new beginning again
You in school at 10, late, Radioactive's goin' gold
And so? GREAT. Do I give a flying duck
If I'm applyin' love to my rhymin' plus alignin' us?
Alabama's climbin' up, wait, no I don't give a
Flying duck, nothing but a buckshot, Ch, pow!
Motherfuck your life, pussy blood clot
Ain't never been no rapper this cold since 2Pac was froze
And thawed out for spot date at a Coachella show
[Verse 5: Danny Brown]
Weed a different color like a hoodrat's bra and panties
And my flow be overhead like pots and pans in pantries
Antsy cause I'm high like Michael Jackson penny loafers
Moonwalkin' on the sun, barefoot, with shades on
Bitch pussy smell like a penguin
Wouldn't hit that shit with my worst enemy's penis
Bitch when I say this I mean this: "Ho, I'm the meanest"
Dick so big, stretch from Earth to Venus
That molly got me nauseous, on shit, no Auschwitz
Lawless, obnoxious, on the suck my cock shit
That is my synopsis, ostrich pot-rich
Hoes on some got shit, stop it! You not this!
Not this, regardless, heartless and awkward
Cryin' tears of vodka primadonna at the concert
A pound smokin chronic bout' to vomit, Gin N' Tonic
Just bein honest, tell me, isn't that ironic?
[Verse 6: Action Bronson]
Swiftly, I shift the Beamer 860
A hefty smoker so you know I brought the Blake with me
The moon’s reflection off the lake hit me
You should have stayed with me
Now many Asian bitches lay with me
The face is silky like a tablecloth
My shorty gallop in the morning on the beach like a Chilean horse
Red roses drop on boxes very often
Confetti torture, drinking Henny like I'm Kenny Lofton
I’m standing, I fixed the game between Georgia Southern and Grambling
You see us scrambling, selling Susan Sarandon
The cloud of smoke like the phantom
Damn this shit tastes like fantastic
You see me coming through in each state
Just so the law can put the fork inside the cheesecake
Cuffed to my wrist I’ve got the briefcase
The gavel slam, I’m a free man, try not to eat ham - yeah
[Verse 7: Big K.R.I.T.]
Spit like my last breath: casket rap, six deep
Eyes closed; the black is back, out come the 'Lac with flats
After that, bottles I can’t pronounce, like, “How you ask for that?”
Why you ask for crack and all you had was scratch?
All I had was rap, when all they had was wack
All I wanted was love, all they had was that
Fuck them haters and fuck them hoes and cherish your wins
The aftermath, ask LeBron, open palm, slap a bitch
Walk the plank or break a bank, I’ve been in the business of sinking ships
Choking niggas out with the anchors that they anchor with
Resuscitations calls the label, I’m taxing if you want to hit
Clear, fuck your career, bitch! I was born here
Been a killer, ‘86er, nigga, that’s my born year
Get the fuck from ‘round here, that’s just my country ways
Sucking on your momma’s titty, bitching while I was chopping blade
Grippin’ grain, fuckin’ hoes, candy paint like Everglades
Miss me with that rapper chatter, take that shit up with my bass
I put that on my soul, how could you ever doubt me?
Most rappers hoping the world end ro they won’t have to drop another album
B.B. King saw the king in me, so why can’t you?
In order to come up close, you’ll have to dig up Cash and Elvis, too
Muddy water flow, Dixie rebel past
Fuck your Louis flag, popping benjie tags on your wifey’s ass
That’s out of line, but in living color?
I’m more like Ma Bailey on you rap motherfuckers; a true artist
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