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asap rocky - 1 train lyrics
(feat. kendrick lamar, joey bada$$, yelawolf, danny brown, action bronson & big k.r.i.t)
[verse 1: a$ap rocky]
feeling like a vigilante or a missionary
tell my a$ap killers get they pistols ready
send ’em to the cemetary with obituaries
don’t be scared, n-gg-, is you ready?
i’ve been thinking ’bout all the o’s in my bank account
x the o’s in my bed is ’round the same amount
ever since this new star fame came about
or ever since me and drizzy started hangin’ out
young boy, let his gun bang, let his nuts hang
transition to a lamborghini from a mustang
drugs slang in the drug game with the hustling
(i know one thing) anything is better than that 1 train
bag made of goyard, cheffin’ like i’m boyar-
dee, probably selling d in your local courtyard
braids like i’m o-dog, my la familia go hard
down to my inlaws, they outlaws with no laws
[verse 2: kendrick lamar]
we outlawed then i bogart, any pros that got ‘proached at
with a toe-tag, get broke off, in the projects with a skateboard
i roll past and i blaze y’all like, “doo doo!” i hate y’all
when the beef cooked, i ate y’all like, “mmm mmm,” let’s play ball
in a ballpark with all sharks and a blindfold, i rhyme cold
my k hot, your 9 cold, that bark like k9 drone
that banana clip, straight from the rip
i’ll make that shirt say rip, i’m on some sh-t
if i’m not the hottest then h-ll must’ve froze over
you thought it was safe then forgot what the code was
i carry traits of a traumatized soldier
don’t look in my face, i might snap, i might choke ya
spine right out of place, give me dap like you ‘posed ta
darts at your posters, dark nights like this
i metamorph like i’m ‘posed ta, i might slice my wrist
or pretend like a vulture and drop off this cliff
[verse 3: joey bada$$]
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 byp-ssed 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 p-ss the pot let me skillet
just got back to the block from a 6 o’clock with jigga
and i’m thinkin’ ’bout signin’ to the roc
but my n-gg-s on the block still -ssigned 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 gon’ end up either dead or in jail
but you my n-gg-, wish you the best for real
[verse 4: yelawolf]
when you mention my name amongst other white rappers
or for that matter, any f-ckin’ rapper, f-ck it
painter, skater, musician, trailer park dirt ditch diggin’
burger flippin’, eat, sleep, sh-ttin’ human bein’, you would be in
trouble to body double or couple 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!
motherf-ck your life, p-ssy blood clot
ain’t never been no rapper this cold since 2pac was froze
and thawed out for spot date at a coach-lla show, yelawolf
[verse 5: danny brown]
weed a different color like a hoodrat 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
b-tch p-ssy smell like a penguin
wouldn’t hit that sh-t with my worst enemy’s p-n-s
b-tch when i say this i mean this: “ho, i’m the meanest”
d-ck so big, stretch from earth to venus
that molly got me nauseous, on sh-t, no off switch
lawless, obnoxious, on that “suck my c-ck” sh-t
that is my synopsis, ostrich pot sh-t
hoes on some god sh-t, stop it! you not this!
novice, regardless, heartless and awkward
cryin’ tears of vodka prima donna at the concert
adonis smokin’ chronic ’bout to vomit gin and tonic
just bein honest, tell me, isn’t that ironic?
[verse 6: action bronson]
swiftly, i shift the bimmer 860
a heavy smoker so you know i brought the blake with me
the moon’s reflection off the lake hit me
you should’ve stayed with me
now many asian b-tches 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
outstandin’
i fixed the game between georgia southern and grambling
you see us scrambling, selling susan sarandon
the cloud of smoke like the phantom
d-mn this sh-t tastes like fantastic
you see me comin’ through in each state
just so the lord could 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
[verse 7: big k.r.i.t.]
big krit, shawty
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 pr-nounce, 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 dap
f-ck them haters and f-ck them hoes and cherish your wins
the aftermath, ask lebron, open palm slap a b-tch
walk the plank or break a bank, i’ve been in the business of sinkin’ ships
chokin’ n-gg-s out with the anchors that they anchor with
resuscitations cost the label, i’m taxing if you want a hit
clear, f-ck your career, b-tch, i was born here
been a killer, ‘86er, n-gg-, that’s my born year
get the f-ck from ‘round here, that’s just my country ways
suckin’ on your momma’s t-tty, b-tchin’ while i was choppin’ blade
grippin’ grain, f-ckin’ hoes, candy paint like everglades
miss me with that rapper chatter, take that sh-t up with my b-ss
i put that on my sub, how could you ever doubt me?
most rappers hoping the world end so they won’t have to drop another alb-m
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
f-ck your louis flag, popping benji tags on your wifey’s -ss
that’s out of line, but in living color?
i’m more like miya bailey on you rap motherf-ckers, a true artist
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