Danny Brown - 1 Train

Song Rating: 7.75/10

Song lyrics:

[Produced by Hit-Boy]

[Verse 1: A$AP Rocky]
Feeling like a vigilante or a missionary
Tell my A$AP k**ers get they pistols ready
Send em to the cemetary with obituaries
Dont be scared, n***a, is you ready?
Ive been thinking bout all the Os in my bank account (What?)
X the hoes in my bed is round the same amount (What?)
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 Im Boyar-
Dee, probably selling D in your local courtyard
Braids like Im 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 yall like, DOO DOO! I hate yall
When the beef cooked, I ate yall like, Mmm mmm,
Lets play ball in a ballpark with all sharks and a blindfold
I rhyme cold, my K hot, your 9 cold, that bark like K9s on
That banana clip, straight from the rip
Ill make that shirt say RIP, Im on some sh**
If Im not the hottest then Hell mustve froze over
You thought it was safe then forgot what the code was
I carry traits of a traumatized soldier
Dont 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 Im 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
Im on my convict, dont drop bars, I drop prisons
Dont sell rocks, seen the spectrum through the prisms
Somehow bypa**ed the bias and the -isms
The violence and the k**in, so given
They seen my pigment and thought that was the ignance
Unfortunately I am not that type of niglet
But pa** the pot, let me sk**et
Just got back to the block from a 6 oclock with Jigga
And Im thinkin bout signin to the Roc
But my n***as on the block still a**igned to the rocks
And I swear it hurt me soul
I try to prevail, but when I preach it only hurt their sales
Like youre only gon end up either dead or in jail
But you my n***a, wish you the best for real

[Verse 4: Yelawolf]
When you mention my name amongst other white rappers
Or for that matter, any f**in rapper, f** it
Painter, skater, musician, trailer park dirt ditch diggin
Burger flippin, eat, sleep, sh**tin 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 visions beyond the Hubbles
I huddle with Nubians, new beginning again
You in school at 10, late, Radioactives goin gold
And so? GREAT. Do I give a flying duck
If Im applyin love to my rhymin plus alignin us?
Alabamas climbin up, wait, no I dont give a


Flying duck, nothing but a buckshot, Ch, pow!
Motherf** your life, p**y blood clot
Aint never been no rapper this cold since 2Pac was froze
And thawed out for a spot date at a Coachella 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 Im high like Michael Jackson penny loafers
Moonwalkin on the sun, barefoot, with shades on
b**h p**y smell like a penguin
Wouldnt hit that sh** with my worst enemys penis
b**h when I say this I mean this: Ho, Im the meanest
Dick so big, stretch from Earth to Venus
That molly got me nauseous, aw sh**, no off switch
Lawless, obnoxious, on that s** my cock sh**
That is my synopsis, ostrich posh sh**
Hoes on some goth sh**, 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, isnt 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 shouldve stayed with me, now many Asian b**hes 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 dropped from boxes very often
Confetti torchin, drinking Henny like Im Kenny Lofton
Outstandin
I fixed the game between Georgia Southern and Gramblin
You see us scrambling, selling Susan Sarandon
The cloud of smoke like the phantom
Damn this sh** 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 KRIT]
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 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 dap
f** them haters and f** them hoes, a championship win is
The aftermath, ask LeBron, open palm slap a b**h
Walk the plank or break a bank, I’ve been in the business of sinkin ships
Chokin n***as out with the anchors that they anchor with
Resuscitations cost the label, I’m taxing if you want a hit
Clear, f** your career, b**h, I was born here
Been a k**er, 86er, n***a, thats my born year
Get the f** from round here, thats just my country ways
s**in on your mommas titty, b**hin while I was choppin blade
Grippin’ grain, f**in hoes, candy paint like Everglades
Miss me with that rapper chatter, take that sh** up with my ba**
I put that on my sub, how could you ever doubt me?
Most rappers hoping the world end so they wont have to drop another album
B.B. King saw the king in me, so why cant you?
In order to come up close, you’ll have to dig up Cash and Elvis, too
(That wasnt no sample n***a!)
Muddy water flow, Dixie rebel past
f** your Louis flag, popping benji tags on your wifey’s a**
That’s out of line, but in living color?
I’m more like Miya Bailey on you rap motherf**ers, a true artist

Date of text publication: 16.01.2021 at 22:59