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Drake Lyrics: Drake Feat Lil’ Wayne – “Ignant Shyte

Look, I’m the property of October

I ain’t drive here, I got chauffeured

Bring me champagne flutes, Rosé and some shots over

I think better when I’m not sober

I smoke good ain’t no glaucoma, I’m a stockholder

Private flights back home, no stop over

Still spitting that Shyte that they shot Pac over

The Shyte 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

And if I die I’m a do it repping, I never do a second

I swear n*ggas be eyeing me all hard

And lying to they girls and driving the same cars

Sitting there wishing they problems became ours

Cause we have nothing in common since I done became star

I done became bigger swerving writing in my peer’s lane

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 waking 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 figure

How to get these label heads to offer him good figures

And me doing them shows getting everyone nervous cause

Them hipsters going have to get along with them hood n*ggas

It’s all good, I’m going 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 you, got no holster

Wet glass on your table, n*gga no coaster

Burn bread everyday boy, no toaster

G and Tez got a cig but I’m no smoker

They jus handing chips to me n*gga, no poker

I’m with it, Young Money, Cash Money soldier

My cup runnith over

The same n*ggas I ball with, I fall with

On some southern drawl Shyte

Rookie of the year, ’06 Chris Paul Shyte

D-R., CJ, and Po, I see y’all

These cases don’t workout I hope we can agree on

Making enough to pay any Judge Judy off

First thing I’m a do is free Weezy, go

[Lil Wayne]

And I take probation

I don’t want that T.I. and Vick vacation

Private plane, big 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 meantime you can call me young Roy

Jones Jr. fighting the drugs and gun charge

Shyte, don’t leave me unguarded

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 recording

I ain’t recording, I’m jus 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 falling

Watch the game from the side, I’m play calling

No, I didn’t say that I’m flawless

But I, damn sure don’t tarnish

My piss don’t 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, new born Beyotch

You know what they say bout when your palm itch

I’m going get money, money I’m going get

Young Money in your tummy and we going Shyte

And get that toilet paper quick like when bones split

That’s right Itchbay, I’m back on my grown Shyte

That ought to Marvin Gaye, no ice just chrome Shyte

And your boyfriend softer than a foam pit

I scream, “Fawk the world with a long package”

MotherFawker I’m me, yeah Beyotch I’m me

You n*ggas sweet like the p*ssy in which I eat

Fireman burn down your entire street

So fly I’m a 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 shuffling the cards bout to cut my queens

But I ain’t the dealer

House full of Beyotches like Tila Tequila

Yeah, I’m the man in the mirror

My swagger jus screaming, motherFawker, do you hear her?

Drizzy Drake what the lick read

We make magic boy, Roy and Siegfried