Right Above It Lyrics - Drake

1 - Drake] 

Who else really try'na fuck with Hollywood Cole? 

I'm with Marley Gee, bro 

Flying Hollygrove chicks to my Hollywood shows 

And I want to tell you something that you prolly should know 

This that Slumdog Millionaire Bollywood flow 

And uhhh 

My real friends never hearin' from me 

Fake friends write the wrong answers on the mirror for me 

That's why I pick and choose, I don't get shit confused 

I got a small circle, I'm not with different crews 

We walk the same path, but got on different shoes 

Live in the same building, but we got different views 

I got a couple cars I never get to use 

Don't like my women single, I like my chicks in twos 

And these days all the girls is down to roll 

I hit the strip club and all them bitches find a pole 

Plus I been sippin' so this shit is movin' kinda slow 

Just tell my girl to tell her friend that it's time to go 

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Now tell me how you love it 

You know you at the top when only Heaven's right above it 

We on 

It's Young Money, motherfucker 

If you ain't runnin' wit it, run from it, motherfucker, 

All right 

Now somebody show some money in this bitch 

And I got my B's with me like some honey in this ditch, ya dig? 

I got my gun in my boo purse 

And I don't bust back, because I shoot first 

Meet me on the fresh train 

Yes, I'm in the building, you just on the list of guest names 

And all of my riders do not give a fuck, X Games 

Guns turn you boys into pussies, sex change 

Photos 

And I smoke till I got chest pains 

And you nigga know I rep my game like Jesse James 

Women are possessive, and they wanna possess Wayne 

I been fly so long I fell asleep on the fuckin' plane 

Skinny pants and some Vans 

Call me TripleA, get my advance in advance, amen 

As the world spin and dance in my hands 

Life is a beach, I'm just playin' in the sand 

Uh, wake up and smell the pussy 

You niggas can't see me, but never overlook me 

I'm on the paper trail, it ain't no tellin' where it took me 

Yeah, and I ain't a killa, but don't push me 

How do he say what's never said? 

Beautiful black woman, I bet that bitch look better red 

Limpin' off tour 'cause I made more off my second leg 

Muhfuckin' Birdman Junior, eleventh grade 

Ball on automatic start 

I could hand it to Drake or do a quarterback draw 

Wildcat offense, check the paw prints 

We in the building, you niggas in apartments 

Uh, n-now, c'mon, be my blood donor 

Flow so nice, she ain't gotta put a rug on her 

Do it big, and let the small fall under that 

Damn, where you stumbled at? 

From where they make gumbo at? 

Kane got the fuckin' beat jumpin' like a jumpin' jack 

You know me, I get on this bitch and have a heart attack 

Hip-hop, I'm the heart of that, nigga, nothin' short of that 

President Carter, Young Money Democrat