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W&W - The One

The One
W&W
02:29
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  • W&W
  • MP3 320Kbps
  • 5.78 Mb
  • 02:29

Song lyrics

[Chorus: Marsha Ambrosius]
The storm is on the horizon,
I'm standing here alone,
Got a pistol on my hip
And it's gonna be some shit
If you want it, then bring it on.
See I'm a motherfuckin' soldier
And I'ma be here till it's done,
And when they asking who I'm is, shit,
You just tell them that I'm the one,
One, one, one,
Tell them that I'm the one,
One, one, one,
Tell them that I'm the one.

[Verse 1: Kanye West]
I'm the one, baby,
Yeah, I'm the one, baby,
Since God gave his only begotten son, baby,
It's hard preachin' the gospel to the slums lately,
So I had to put the church on the drums, baby.
You on a run, baby,
You on a run, baby,
You think you free but you a slave to the funds, baby,
You think you me, but you ain't me, what you done lately?
Mhm, that's cool but I been runnin' on the sun, baby.
We on a galaxy the haters cannot visit,
That's my reality so get off my Scott Disick,
If you ever held a title belt you would know how Michael felt –
Tyson, Jackson, Jordan, Michael Phelps.
Yeah, had to take it to another realm
‘Cause everything around me got me underwhelmed,
Best way to describe my position is at the helm,
Best way to describe my new whip “yeahm”.

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Big Sean]
I told Detroit, I'ma fuckin' get it,
I told my brother, we'll be fuckin' winnin',
Ye told me, I'm the man for the job,
So I told my mom, call her's up and tell ‘em that she quittin'.
Started off in that Chevrolet but it's Ferraris I gotta drive,
I'm on HBO with my entourage,
I'm 5'9'', fuckin' 9 to 5,
I need a hundred million, no compromise,
I'm a double X L nigga: magazine and condom size,
See what I seen and be traumatized.
I don't wait, I marinate, variate er'ryday,
Every state, sold out, fuck around and need a barricade,
My weed loud I need a hearin' aid,
Livin' life behind a pair of shades,
I be a billionaire if I could get a dollar
For all the bullshit that I hear a day.
I did it.

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: 2 Chainz]
Treat the back seat like a sofa bed,
Break bread with my niggas, call it profit sharin',
This some good shit but it get better,
And, yeah, my bitch cold, nigga, thin sweater.
Like my verse suede and the beat leather,
Just tryin' to stay above sea level,
When my nigga went to jail, I said, “Free Gucci!”
I done bought so much shit, I should get free Gucci, true.
Bought my baby momma anaconda bags,
I shouldn't have bought it all,
I should've went and cut the grass,
Snake ass niggas in my fuckin' face,
Bring your girl here, nigga, so I could fuck her face.
Yeah, I run this place, this is cashmere swag,
Niggas treadmillin', goin' nowhere fast,
Sittin' courtside at the Hawks game,
Louis on, I could trip a fuckin' ball player.

[Outro: James Fauntleroy]
Fuck yeah! Awesome! Yeah, I lost some of my mind,
And then I found peace it was really kind of awesome.
It's possible, goddamn right,
I've been honest the whole time.

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