​on 1 lyrics

[Intro]
(King)
(Tired, is that you?)
Yeah, mhm, hrr, hrr, hrr, hrr, hm, young n*gga-, hm, hm

[Verse]
Whole gang locked up, young n*gga trappin'
Young Gotti, I won’t hit no lick with that yat
Wasabi, we flip that boy, pop at his back
Young n*gga pop out with “Urrtl”, and aim at his “Urrtl”
f*ck mobbin' n*gga, he talkin' ‘bout “What’s good?”
I f*cked her then did her bad just like I should
I'd hitman to get his ass back but he would
Talkin' crazy on the ‘Gram, flatjack his whole hood
Oh sh*t, you told me, “Don't take him off”, man, I misunderstood
If I could just f*ck for one night then break that ho off, man, I would
100 bands in the safe, let's go hit the juug
Kay caught another K
We need to mask the f*ck up
All of that stickin finger sh*t, n*gga, you need to back the f*ck up
That b*tch said she love me, ha-ha-ha, that sh*t made me crack the f*ck up
I'ma just sip on that Wock' and roll that dope up
Snake that boy bad, you could just call it Cobra
I'm twice, but diss on the mob, I’m on one
Me and Vеlly take him through the swamp just like a ogrе
For my gang, I’m going all in, ain't talkin’ poker
Hm, caught that boy and did a double homicide
n*gga, you scary
I know that you ain't gon' ride
Yo' ass believe in them fairies, you got the wrong guy
I get the f*ck from the cops on some spares, you know I’m O-nine
White and black b*tch on my video, you know they both mine
I turn on that switch just like a light bulb, I pull out that Glock, he get blind
76, mob sh*t, until lil glokk die
White b*tch from Alpharetta gon' set yo ass up, all that ho want is a line
I hit a lick on the eastside way before I shot the vid' with 2wo2ime
She told make time for her, bih' got me f*cked up ‘cause I can't even really make mine
Huh, I ain't got time for no b*tch
I only got time for makin' money and hit licks
I do not got time, you gon' had f*ck with me, then f*ck my clique
I only got time for puttin' B'Rolls in my pocket
And n*gga, you say you caught me outside with no fye, n*gga, stop it
Don't think about pullin' that sh*t, shawty, drop it
We smokin' Tavon ‘til I'm higher than rocket
You flex with that gun on the ‘Gram, but you will not pop it
Huh, I talked to Phat the other day, he like, “What the f*ck poppin'?”
Pulled out the Glock the other day on a f*ck n*gga drivin'
She tried to f*ck the whole damn gang, that lil' ho conniving
When I swang that door, you know I'ma let that stick hang
Me and Kin we don't really do talkin'
We at the High Table with no motherf*ckin' office
She said she don't wanna f*ck because I'm c*cky
You ain't good for none', b*tch, but that sloppy toppy
You ain't gon' pull out that stick for none', why you gon' post it?, just pop it
You n*ggas be workin' with twelve, heard that walkie-talkie
Paranoid as the f*ck, can't go nowhere without my Glocky