Lyrics:

[Chorus:]
Go hard, go hard, go hard (hard, hard) [x2]
4-3-2-1
I’m on one, one, one, one, one [x4]

[Verse 1:]
I’m on like a pot I cook up, I got the hookup
My slap makes the goonies look up, I got 'em shook up
Yolaology yayo college that’s what I took up
Northern California my nigga put up a shutter
On one, loaded like a shotgun
Smoking like a chimney, higher than the trees in Yosemite
Twisted like a pretzel drink a cranberry and kettle juice
Stay afloat keep my head above sea level
So much hate in my region, so much stress on the brain
Hey these rappers ain’t eating so they need somebody to blame
So they blame it on E-40 cause I got the biggest name
Nigga that been had no change since Soul Train
Step your bar game up, practice your penmanship
Stop complaining and making excuses nigga make a hit
Jus the other day I heard a fuck nigga say
40 ya’ll winning but Vallejo ain’t in the bay
I said that sound like some hoe ass shit a nigga like you would say
It’s haterz like yo washed up ass that’s in the way
Ooh, tycoon diamonds glimmin' like the sun
I’m in a fucked up mood, and a nigga on one
(on one)

[Chorus]

[Verse 2:]
Ooh smoking on smelly, pow round on my cellie
Hustling getting money as a habit, always getting dusty always in the traffic
Outta town outta state, doing shows making cake (ooh)
Spit them on stage like a savage, gulliest clubs with the grimiest bastards
Drinking is a ritual it make ma life easier, it’s not so difficult (it’s not so difficult)
I’m at the officiating table drinking shrimp pops
On this landi cognac som’n pitiful
I’m all purpose, I’m took, I’m lightly wounded, I’m lifted, I’m hecka twisted, sedated you don’t get it ah
I’m out of there in the middle of nowhere, I’m probably outta my mind on this liquor and don’t care
(I’m on)

[Chorus]

[Verse 3:]
Ooh, this yay boy, he on one, he get active this his gun
With the purple and Patrón finna take it to the dough, on one won’t stop till it’s all gone
Ooh, Marley naps American he don’t have arrest I hid on the outskirts but I’m from the trap
Ignorant black, jail waddy I put 12’s in the back, greenbacks, rubber bands thousand stacks
Secret stash box why I hide my mac, head out the sunroof bonking hella crack
Yelling hella loud, blank busting in the air for nutting shooting at the cloud
I ain’t listening my fellas say that I’m tripping,my homie still on parole my nigga he piss testing
Just got out the pot, just got out the shoe, just got through it doing 6 and ain’t supposed to be around this shit (I’m on)

[Chorus]