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Drake

Genres: Hip-Hop

Family Feud Lyrics - Drake

[Intro: Drake] 

Yeah, Dedication 6, of course 

Shout out Guru for sendin' me the beat, too 

Young Angel, Young Lion 

More Life, no dyin' 

Yeah, alright, I got it, yeah 

 

[Verse 1: Drake] 

Super Bowl goals, I'm at the crib with Puff 

He got Kaepernick on the phone, he in a whole different mode 

Angel hair at 2AM for Bey and Hov 

Just to show them how I treat the city like my humble abode 

Ayy, tell me if TD Bank is approvin' loans 

I'm thinkin' of payin' Wayne what Universal owes 

My nigga spent a lifetime goin' platinum and gold 

He should own half of the label, shit outta control 

Somebody get Larry Jackson on the phone 

I need some ownership if we pressin' go 

'Cause business is boomin' on behalf of me 

I need a bite outta the Apple like Adam and Eve 

We gon' have to break the billi' curse 

I need my paper long like "A Milli" verse 

Or too long like a sentence from a Philly judge 

Fuck is the point in all the beefin' when we really blood? 

Nobody wins when the family feuds, nigga 

Everybody gotta eat, we can't exclude niggas 

I make the crib, expandin' pools, and expandin' rooms 

Addin' Hammam Spas with tannin' booths, nigga 

That's truth, no boost, nigga 

But this isn't all about callin' truce 

I'm still dishin' out verbal abuse 

That shit could get re-introduced 

If somebody got somethin' they urgin' to prove, nigga 

Inspirin' to the youth 

New Years Eve, lookin' like a royal flush 

Wait, we all in the same suit 

I'm Hall of Fame in the booth, nigga 

My karma makin' the news, nigga 

This pudding taste like the proof, nigga 

If I ever see Trump, he better salute niggas 

Much as we do, nigga (for real) 

[Interlude: Lil Wayne] 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah 

Six shit 

 

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[Verse 2: Lil Wayne] 

I could care less 'bout your squad 

I don't connect when I'm flyin' 

I'm on a jet and it's mine 

I just hope the weather is fine 

I took the jet to Dubai 

I took the jet to Milan 

I took the jet way to Africa, shout out my nigga Akon 

Your bitch sweatin' my squad 

Please get the sweat out her eye 

I put the dick in her spine 

I fucked the bitch in her prime 

Don't get my credit declined 

Give all the credit to Moms 

I flipped the bird at the Bird; hey, what's for dinner? Popeyes 

These chickens got bird flu 

And they chirp, chirp too 

Always sung, never flew 

These boys hot girls too 

If money grow on trees, I climb and rest in that bitch 

Build a treehouse and knock the bird nest out that bitch 

Stuck my neck out and shit 

Then got the heck out that shit 

And when I did, I took the special effect out of that shit 

Tunechi F 'round this bitch 

The best thing left 'round this bitch 

All you niggas some bitches, I feel like Hef 'round this bitch 

You call her Stephanie, I call her Steph 'round this bitch 

Now back to whippin' the baby on some step mama shit 

I come direct with my shit 

I come correct with my shit 

A blank check on your face, put some respect on my shit 

Branches startin' to shake 

Here comes the leaves, get the rake 

I want my piece of the cake 

It should be sweeter than cake 

Here come the leaves, get the rake 

And we ain't leavin' the rake 

We made the cleanest escape 

Although I bleeped in your face 

You playin' with the right one today 

Your flag is a white one today 

You wearin' them tight ones today 

Check me a right one today 

You playin' with fire today 

The Angel and Lion are greats 

Oh my God, lightning strikin' twice in this place 

Should we make a wish or should we make it right in this place? 

All this motherfuckin' beef, I need some rice on this plate 

Talked to your wifey today 

She feelin' triflin' she say 

Talked to the sniper, he say 

He aimin' at diapers today 

Pick you off like pickin' peppers, Peter Piper today 

So tell your squad I say "BLAOW" like Spice 1 would say 

It's Mortal Kombat tonight, it's Street Fighter today 

I'm Major Bison, Drizzy lit like Raiden light up the place 

You see blue face hundreds 'til you white in the face 

Oh my God, it feel like I done life in this place 

But swear to God, I got money doin' life in my safe 

Put on the gloves like MJ, go from OG to OJ 

I make you pay attention then rip your receipt in your face 

This for Cita and Nae 

This for my people and bae 

I got three sons of a gun, them niggas keep me on safe 

Hol' up, I am the black god to the church 

I am the fat boy to dessert 

I am the landlord to the first 

Got two bangers, one of them go "bada boom" 

One of them go "bada bing" 

I taught these hoes how to love, I taught these boys how to lean 

I'm high in the sky and I twinkle 

The eyes don't lie 'til you blink 'em 

Keep the iron for the wrinkles 

The mansion came with the sprinklers 

I want Arabian wealth 

You snakes come make me a belt 

Yeah, you know life is a movie, you niggas playin' yourselves 

 

Photos 

 

[Outro: Lil Wayne] 

Damn, that's some six shit 

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I want Arabian wealth 

You snakes come make me a belt 

It's every man for themselves, it's every baby for sale 

And you know life is a movie, you niggas ratin' yourself 

I just hope it's a porn to watch you pussies play with yourself 

That's some six shit 

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