Drake - First Person Shooter (altyazı ve şarkı sözleri)
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Drake - First Person Shooter (en) şarkı sözleri
by RentAnAdviser.com
First-person shooter mode, we turnin'
your song to a funeral
To them niggas that say they wan'
off us, you better be talkin'
'bout workin' in cubicles
Yeah, them boys had it locked,
but I knew the code
Lot of niggas debatin' my numeral
Not the three, not the
two, I'm the U-N-O
Yeah
Numero U-N-O
Me and Drizzy, this shit
like the Super Bowl
Man, this shit damn near big as the
Big as the what? Big as the
what? Big as the what?
Big as the Super Bowl
But the difference is it's just
two guys playin' shit that
they did in the studio
Niggas usually send they verses
back to me and they be terrible,
just like a two-year-old
I love a dinner with some fine
women when they start debatin'
about who the G.O.A.T.
I'm like go on 'head, say it
then, who the G.O.A.T.?
Who the G.O.A.T.? Who the G.
O.A.T.? Who the G.O.A.T.?
Who you bitches really rootin' for?
Like a kid that act bad from
January to November, nigga,
it's just you and Cole
Big as the what? Big as the what?
Big as the what? (Ayy)
Niggas so thirsty to put me in beef
Dissectin' my words and
start lookin' too deep
I look at the tweets and
start suckin' my teeth
I'm lettin' it rock 'cause
I love the mystique
I still wanna get me a song with YB
Can't trust everything
that you saw on IG
Just know if I diss you, I'd make
sure you know that I hit you
like I'm on your caller ID
I'm namin' the album The Fall Off,
it's pretty ironic 'cause
it ain't no fall off for me
Still in this bitch gettin' bigger,
they waitin' on the kid to
come drop like a father to be
Love when they argue the hardest MC
Is it K-Dot? Is it Aubrey? Or me?
We the big three like we started
a league, but right now,
I feel like Muhammad Ali
Huh, yeah, yeah, huh-huh,
yeah, Muhammad Ali
The one that they call when they
shit ain't connectin' no more,
feel like I got a job in IT
Rhymin' with me is the biggest mistake
The Spider-Man meme is
me lookin' at Drake
It's like we recruited your homies
to be demon deacons, we
got 'em attending your wake
Hate how the game got away
from the bars, man, this shit
like a prison escape
Everybody steppers, well, fuck it, then
everybody breakfast and I'm 'bout to
clear up my plate (Huh, huh, huh)
When I show up, it's motion
picture blockbuster
The G.O.A.T. with the golden
pen, the top toucher
The spot rusher, sprayed his whole
shit up, the crop duster
Not Russia, but apply pressure
To your cranium, Cole's automatic
when aimin' 'em
With The Boy in the status, a stadium
Nigga
Ayy, I'm 'bout to, I'm bout to
I'm 'bout to, yeah
I'm 'bout to click out on this shit
I'm 'bout to click, woah
I'm down to click out you hoes
and make a crime scene
I click the trigger on the
stick like a high beam
Man, I was Bentley wheel whippin'
when I was nineteen
She call my number, leave her
hangin', she got dry-cleaned
She got a Android, her messages
is lime green
I search one name, and end
up seein' twenty tings
Nadine, Christine, Justine, Kathleen,
Charlene, Pauline, Claudine
Man, I pack 'em in this phone
like some sardines
And they send me naked pictures,
it's the small things
You niggas still takin' pictures
on a Gulfstream
My youngins richer than you rappers
and they all stream
I really hate that you been sellin'
them some false dreams
Man, if your pub was up for sale,
I buy the whole thing
Will they ever give me flowers?
Well, of course not
They don't wanna have that talk,
'cause it's a sore spot
They know The Boy, the one
they gotta boycott
I told Jimmy Jam I use a
GRAMMY as a door stop
Girl gave me some head
because I need it
And if I fuck with you, then
after I might eat it, what?
Niggas talkin' 'bout when
this gon' be repeated
What the fuck, bro? I'm
one away from Michael
Nigga, beat it, nigga, beat it, what?
Beat it, what? Beat it, what? Beat
it, what? Beat it, what?
Don't even pay me back on none
them favors, I don't need it
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