1v1 (feat. Lil Yachty)

(Energy made this one)

What up, Energy?

What up, Lil Boat?

Shit, alright

I got long money, bitch

Ain't nobody give me shit, I got my own money, bitch

Yachty pulled up in the 'Rari with the chrome on him, bitch

Been spendin' money since the day I got ahold of the shit

Chrome Hearts shirts, AMIRI jeans with the rips in 'em

Jetfire Glocks, extended clips, shit'll get ignant

"Rio, why your pop look like that?" It's a six in it

Don't be steppin' 'round my kitchen by the oven, it's a brick in it

Plain AP on my wrist, it's a brick on me

Damn she cute and she thick, I'll trick on it

Walkin' through the Valley with my stick on me

Baby girl, these is not McQueens, these Rick Owens

Wait 'til my bitch daddy go to sleep, hit a lick on him

He soft, back in the day my daddy took a half a brick from him

Movin' 'round six cars deep like it's a hit on me

Hundred round drum on the AR, I'm tryna hit somethin'

I'll march to Flint for a pint of Act'

And as long as it prints, we gon' get the racks

Grindhard E put up them hoes, call him Midget Mac

I'll really get a nigga gone, this ain't this or that

I ain't tryna argue on no phone, goin' tit-for-tat

My old bitch bad, I love her body, it's tats on her tit

Used to tote ARs, now a nigga tote the Sig now

Downtown Detroit, my phone trippin', ain't no signal

Used to be a jit but I grew up, yeah, I'm big now

My brother bust a wig down, my first crib was a penthouse

On my own, I was eighteen

Boat and Rio, goddamn, we the A-team

And I love this lil' bitch, this bitch Asian

And she never gon' get old, never aging

Puttin' numbers on his head like I'm Nick Saban

Like it's 2030, pull up with a ray beam

Opps say they want cancer, let's have a smoke out

The pop kinda taste nasty, shoulda poured some more out

Today I got on so much ice, I could've brought my coat out

They like, "Rio the goat, this nigga really brought Lil Boat out"

Told Yachty we might have to run, I got some dope on me

Took him on a high speed in Flint, that shit be fun to me

Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, it's a gun on me

You better have two hundred shots and one chop if you come for me

In the crib by myself, hundred racks keep me company

Bitch, if your credit score ain't high, you ain't touchin' me

Just hit this bitch raw and hit it in her, now she stuck with me

Niggas bringin' tens and twenties out, I got a buck with me

Bitch, your baby daddy still can't fuck with me

Made eighty racks yesterday, but I put up fifty

Yachty pulled up with the hoes, he got a whole tour bus with him

Bitch, I ain't got crabs, Percs and Lortabs got my nuts itchin'

I'm a big tripper

No I ain't your BD, I don't wear jeans with several zippers

Twenty-three chains 'round my neck, it's the Big Dipper

VS1 diamonds everywhere, wet like Flipper

Fucked my white bitch so good she almost said nigga

Right then and there we almost put a hole in her liver

Two up, I seen my brother hit some hoes off Tinder

Fucked up, pour a six of Wock' in someone else's blender

Bro'nem will serve anybody, no matter gender

Pray I make it up to Heaven, know I'm a sinner

Pray they never catch me lackin'

You gon' have to hit me where I stand, ain't no jackin'

Fifty-five hundred dollars cash on my jacket

Fourteen forty-nine charge for my ratchet