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Drake Knife Talk Mp3 DOWNLOAD

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Drake Knife Talk Lyrics

[Intro Project Pat & 21 Savage]

I gotta feed the streets, my pistol gon’ bleed the streets
Ski mask on my face, sometimes you got to cheat
To stay ahead (Gang) in this bitchard, drank syrup like its Liquor
Streetlife, I have you catching up to god quicker (Yeah, gang)
Sticker, Ak-40 to your liver
Let the choppa bang on you like a blood or cripper (Gang)
Flipper, so much bread, I’m a gymnast
Made so much money off of dummies, off of dummies (Yeah, gang)

[Verse 1: 21 Savage]
I’m Mr. , body catcher, slaughter gang soul snatcher
Ain’t no regular F-150, this a fuckin’ Raptor
No capper, street nigga not a rapper
Choppa hit him and he turned into a booty clapper
Smith & Wesson, I’m 4L gang reppin’
We done baptized more niggas than the damn Revеrend
Kappa Alpha, me and my gang, we do all thе steppin’
Who you checkin’? This FN shoot east to Westend (Gang)

[Verse 2: Drake]
Yeah, I heard Papi outside
And he got the double R, droppy outside
Check the weather and it’s gettin’ real oppie outside
I’m a drop this shit, and have these pussies droppin’ like some motherfuckin’-
Type of niggas that can’t look me in the eyes
I despise, when I see you better put that fuckin’ pride to the side
Many time, plenty times, I survived
Beef is loud, spoiler alert, this nigga dies

[Verse 3: 21 Savage & Drake]
Keep blicky’s, and you know the weed sticky
My finger itchy, the Glock like to leave hickey’s
Yo’ shooters iffy, A street punk could never diss me
I come straight up out the Six, and we don’t spell Sixties
I fuck with her and fuck with her, and her
I hit up {?} and tell him do the {?}, for sure
Voodoo curse, it got him while I flew to Turks
Know the dogs had to hit them where we knew it hurts

[Chorus: 21 Savage & Drake]
Gang shit, that’s all I’m on (Yeah)
Gang shit, that’s all I’m on, nigga
Gang shit, that’s all I’m on
Gang shit, that’s all I’m on, nigga
Gang shit, that’s all I’m on
Gang shit, that’s all I’m on, nigga
Gang shit, that’s all I’m on
Gang shit, that’s all I’m on

[Verse 4: 21 Savage & Drake]
Let it bang bang, let it bang bang
Till his brains hang, and his momma sang
And the pastor sang, and them bullets sang
And them choppas sang, and the choir sang
I’m on everything, Jacob charged four fifty for a tennis chainUS Open had it on I sat the tennis game
Tell the coach “Don’t take me out” I like to finish games
And my pendant sang, and I’m menacing
There’s like eighty of us now, that’s the scary thing
Shit they doin’ on that other side, embarrassing
We in Paris with it, hunnid karats with it
All this shit is for my son, ’cause he inheritin’ it
If Young Metro don’t trust you I’m gon’ shoot you
Metro