Yeat – Holy 1 Lyrics

Holy 1

Yeat

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"Holy 1." - Yeat

Thursday, 22 October 2026, 04:18 am

Album: Lyfë

Track No: 11

Yo, Luca, where you at?
I'ma shoot the Glock, ah, yeah
I'ma just pop that Molly, bop
Holy fuck, ridin' 'round in that Urus, you look broke as fuck
Holy fuck, I took twenty, feelin' it, bitch, I'm the holy one
Uh, I just popped that boy and copped that Birkin
I just pulled up in that fuckin' Urus, in that Urus truck
I been living life like way too fast, I had to perish up
Yeah, uh, holy fuck, uh, in the Bentley truck (Phew)
Uh, riding 'round with bullets, I got plenty bucks, come
Yeah, come back to this crib and I got plenty guns, uh
Yeah, come back to this crib, security kill you once, bitch, uh
You can come back everyday, we will gon' kill you for months
I got mob ties out the country, I got mob ties in it (Shh)
I just pulled up in that Bentley and it got frog eyes in it, ha
You can cut that lil' shit up, we been up fifty minutes
I ain't talkin' 'bout no kitchen, kill 'em, sixty minutes
You ain't fuckin' with the boss, yeah, you get diminished, yeah
You ain't fuckin' with the cost, you ain't paying attention
Birkin bag, holdin' weight
We some Gods, holy ones
Holy field, holy guts
Neon guts, triple guts (Skrrt)
Flip it up, double dutch
Take that back, fifty cups
Yeah, shoot his bitch ass up
Yeah, hit that fitted up
I just been takin' that smacks, I been shmunked out, bitch
All that shit is trash, they been smoked up
Every time I drop an album, I'm on one now
I can't do no more or less 'cause I'm the one now
Yeah, always lookin' behind my back like I got one eye
Bitch, I'm paranoid as fuck, like, bitch, why wouldn't I be? (Why wouldn't I be?)
Yeah, I done put it up, bitch, I pull up and smack (Blick 'em)
I couldn't even trust nobody, yeah, I don't trust no one
Pull up, we'll get you wacked, had to get you gone
Pull up in crunch wrap, you better hurt some
I can't trust not shit, not shit, not shit, not shit
Yeah, you better buy that Urus with the custom seats
I'ma shoot the Glock, ah, yeah
I'ma just pop that Molly, bop
Holy fuck, ridin' round in that Urus, you look broke as fuck
Holy fuck, I took twenty, feelin' it, bitch, I'm the holy one
Uh, I just popped that boy and copped that Birkin
I just pulled up in that fuckin' Urus, in that Urus truck
I been living life like way too fast, I had to perish up
Yeah, uh, holy fuck, uh, in the Bentley truck (Phew)
Uh, riding round with bullets, I got plenty bucks, come
Yeah, come back to this crib and I got plenty guns, uh
Yeah, come back to this crib, security kill you once, bitch, uh
You can come back everyday, we will gon' kill you for months
I got mob ties out the country, I got mob ties in it (Shh)
I just pulled up in that Bentley and it got frog eyes in it, ha
You can cut that lil' shit up, we been up fifty minutes
I ain't talking 'bout no kitchen, kill 'em, sixty minutes
You ain't fuckin' with the boss, yeah, you get diminished
Yeah, you ain't fuckin' with the cops, you ain't paying attention (You broke, bitch)

Writer(s): Noah Smith & Luca Malispina.

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