Yeah, I appreciate ya patience tonight
It's been a moment since I've done some public speaking
I find now-a-days it's you know best to keep quiet
But uh, sometimes you jus gotta let it out
Young Angel and Young Lion
You know what it is, uh
[Drake]
Look, I'm the property of October
I ain't drive here I got chauferred
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 stockholder,
Private flights back home no stop over
Still spittin that shit that they shot Pac over
The shit my mother look shocked over
Yeah, but with a canvas I'm a group of seven
A migraine, take two excedrin
I'm the one twice over I'm the new eleven
An if I die I'm a do it reppin, I never do a second
I swear niggas be eyein me all hard
And lyin to they girls an drivin the same cars
Sittin there wishin they problems became ours
Cause we have nothin in common
Since I done became star
I done became bigger swervin writin in my peer's lane
Same dudes that used to holla my engineer's name
One touch I could make the drapes an 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 ya girlfriend's wakin up ringer
Heh, or alarm, or whatever
She be here at six in the morn if I let her
But I never get attracted to fans
Cause the eager beaver could be the collapse of a dam
I always knew that I could figga
How to get these label heads to offer 'em good figures
And me doin them shows gettin everyone nervous cause
Them hipsters gon have to get alone with them hood niggas
It's all good I'm goin off like lights when the show's 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 ya table nigga no coaster
Burn bread everyday boy no toaster
G and tez got a cig but I'm no smoker
They jus handin chips to me nigga no poker
I'm with it, Young Money, Cash Money soldier
My cup runneth over,
The same niggas I ball with, I fall with
On some southern drawl shit
Rookie of the year, '06 Chris Paul shit
D.R., C.J, an Po' I see y'all
These cases don't workout I hope we can agree on
Makin enough to pay any Judge Judy off
First thing Imma do is free Weezy, go
[Lil' Wayne]
And I take probation
I don't want that T.I. an Vick vacation
Private plane, big location
I'm goin to the bank to make a big donation
Yeah, I dont stunt, I stunt hard
And if the food ain't on the stove I hunt for it
But in the meantime you can call me Young Roy
Jones junior fightin the drugs and gun charge
Shit, don't leave me un-guarded
And I'm a cheese-head word to Vince Lombardi
Word to Marky Mark leave a snitch Departed
All that blood like the Red Sea parted
My gun go crazy like it's retarded
Red light on it like it's recordin
I ain't recordin I'm jus C-4'in
My currency foreign
We are in a league they aren't
Better dig in ya pocket and pay homage
Better cover ya eyes ya 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 piss don't got comments for ya garments
I'm so high I can vomit on a comet
K-Y no homo I'm on it
Weezy F Baby new born bitch
You know what they say bout when ya palm itch
I'm gon get money, money I'm gon get
Young Money in ya tummy and we gon shit
And get that toilet paper quick like when bones spit
That's right bitch I'm back on my grown shit
That oughta Marvin Gaye no ice just chrome shit
And ya boyfriend softer than a phone bit
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 ya entire street
So fly I'm a take off when I leap, bye
And you can suck my wings
Stand on my money headbutt Yao Ming
Putcha hand in the oven if ya touch my things
I'm shufflin the cards bout to cut my queens
But I ain't the dealer
House full of bitches like Tila Tequila
Yeah, I'm the man in the mirror
My swagger jus screamin mothafucker do you hear her
Drizzy Drake what the lick read
We make magic boy Roy and Sigfried
Whoo! young mulah baybee, yeah
Ignant Shit Lyrics performed by Drake are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Ignant Shit Lyrics performed by Drake is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD