1Train

作词 : Lamar, Kendrick

作曲 : Lamar, Kendrick

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, b***h, is you ready?

I've been thinking 'bout all the O's 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 n**s 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

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's on

That banana clip, straight from the rip

I'll make that shit 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, 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

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 signin' to the Roc

But my niggas on the block still assigned 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 nigga, wish you the best for real

When you mention my name amongst other white rappers

Or for that matter, any ****in' rapper, **** it

Painter, skater, musician, trailer park dirt ditch diggin'

Burger flippin', eat, sleep, shit 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 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!

**** your life, b***h blood clot

Ain't never been no rapper this cold since 2Pac was froze

And thawed out for a spot date at a Coachella show, Yelawolf

**** 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***h b***h smell like a penguin

Wouldn't hit that shit with my worst enemy's d**k

B***h when I say this I mean this: Ho, I'm the meanest

D**k so big, stretch from Earth to Venus

That m***y got me nauseous, aw shit , no off switch

Lawless, obnoxious, on that 'suck my c**k' shit

That is my synopsis, ostrich posh shit

Hoes on some goth shit , 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?

Swiftly, I s*ift 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*****s lay with me

The face is silky like a tablecloth

My shawty gallop in the morning on the beach like a Chilean horse

Red roses dropped from boxes very often

Confetti torchin', drinking Henny like I'm 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 shit 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

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

**** them haters and **** 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' s*ips

Choking niggas out with the anchors that they anchor with

Resuscitations cost the label, I'm taxing if you want a hit

Clear, **** your career, b***h, I was born here

Been a killer, '86er, b***h, that's my born year

Get the **** from 'round here

That's just my country ways

Suckin' on your momma's t***y

****ing while I was choppin' blade

Grippin' grain, ****ing hoes, candy paint like Everglades

Miss me with that rapper chatter

Take that shit up with my bass

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 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

(That wasn't no sample b***h!)

Muddy water flow, Dixie rebel past

**** your Louis flag, popping benji tags on your wifey's ass

That's out of line, but in living color?

I'm more like Miya Bailey on you rap mother****ers

A true artist