drake
ignorant shit
Yeah, I appreciate your patience tonight It’s been a moment since I done some public speaking I find nowadays its best to keep quiet But Uh Sometimes you just gotta let it out Young Angel and Young Lion You know What I is  Ughh Look I’m the property of October I ain’t drive here I got chauffeured Bring me champagne flutes, rose and some shots over I think better when I’m not sober I Smoke goodie no glaucoma I’m a stock holder Private flights back home No stop over Still spittin’ that shit that they shot Pac over The shit my mother looked shocked over Haha Yeah What a canvas I’m the group of 7 Migraine, take 2 Excedrin I’m the one twice over I’m the new 11 And if I die I’m do it reppin’ I never do it second I swear niggaz be eyeing me all hard And lying to their girls And drivin’ the same cars Sittin’ there, Wishing their problems became ours Cuz we have nothing in common Since I done became star I done became bigger Swervin’ right into my peer’s lanes Same dudes that used to holler my engineer’s name One touch I could make the drapes and the sheers change And show me the city That I without fear claim What I set seems to never extinguish Coolest kid out baby Word to Chuck Inglish Count my own money See the paper cut fingers My song is your girlfriend’s wakin’ up ringer Haha Or alarm or whatever She be here 6 in the morn If I let her But I never get attracted to fans Cuz a eager beaver Could be the collapse of a dam Always knew that I could figure How to get these label heads to offer him good figures And me doing the shows Getting everyone nervous Cuz them hipsters gone have to get along with them hood niggaz Its all good I’m going off like lights when the shows’ over Make Pasta rent a movie called Hoes over Rest in peace to Heath Ledger But I’m no Joker I’ll slow roast ya Got no holster Wet glass on your table nigga No coaster Burn bread everyday boy No toaster G & Terrence got a cig But I’m no smoker They just handed chips to me nigga No poker I’m with a young money cash money soldier My cup runneth over The same niggas I ball with I fall with On some southern draw shit Rookie of the year 06, Chris Paul shit D.R., CJ & Po I see y’all These cases don’t work out I hope we can agree on Makin enough to pay any judge Judy off First thing I’m a do is Free Weezy Go.. And I’ll take probation I don’t want that T.I and Vick vacation Private plane Pick location I’m going to the bank To make a big donation Yeah I don’t stunt I stunt hard And If the food ain’t on the stove I hunt for it But in the mean time You can call me Young Roy Jones Junior Fightin’ the drugs and gun charges Shit Don’t leave me unguarded And I’m a cheese head Word to Vince Lambardy Word to Marky Mark Leave a snitch departed All that blood like the red tea party My gun go crazy like its retarded Red light on it like its recordin’ I ain’t recordin’ I’m Just C-4ing My currency foreign We are in A league they aren’t Better dig in your pocket And pay homage Better cover your eyes Your face fallin’ Watch the game from the side I’m play callin’ No, I didn’t say that I’m flawless but I Damn sure don’t tarnish My pistol got comments For your garments I’m so high I can vomit on a comet K.Y No Homo I’m on it Weezy F baby Newborn bitch You know what they say bout when your palm itch I’m gone get money Money I’m gone get Young Money in your tummy And we gone shit And get that toilet paper quick Like when Bone spit That’s right bitch I’m back on my grown shit That automark game No ice, just chrome shit And you boyfriend softer than a foam pit I scream fuck the world With a long dick Motherfucker I’m me Yeah Bitch I’m me you niggas sweet like the pussy In which I eat Fireman burn down your entire street So fly I’m take off when I leap Bye…. And you can suck my wings Stand on my money Head butt Yao Ming Put your hand in the oven If you touch my things I’m shufflin’ my cards im Bout to cut my queens Hehe But I ain’t the dealer House full of bitches like Tila Tequila Yeah I’m the man in the mirror My swagger just screaming Motherfucker! Do you hear her? Yeah Drizzy Drake What the lick read? We make magic Boy Roy & Siegfreid  Wooh! Young Mullah Baby Yeah