Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Knife Talk, artist - Drake. Date of issue: 02.09.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Knife Talk |
| I gotta feed the streets, my pistol gon' bleed the streets |
| Ski mask on my face, sometimes you got to cheat |
| To stay ahead in this bitch-ard (Gang), drank syrup like it's liquor |
| Street life'll have you catchin' up to God quicker (Yeah, gang) |
| Sticker, AK-40 to your liver |
| Let the chopper bang on you like a Blood or a Cripper (Gang) |
| Flipper, so much bread, I'm a gymnast |
| Made so much money off of dummies, off of dummies (Yeah, gang) |
| I'm mister body catcher, Slaughter Gang soul snatcher |
| Ain't no regular F-150, this a fuckin' Raptor |
| No capper, street nigga, not a rapper |
| Chopper hit him and he turned into a booty clapper |
| Smith & Wesson, I'm 4L Gang reppin' |
| We done baptized morе niggas than the damn reverеnd (Yeah) |
| Kappa Alpha, me and my gang, we do all the steppin' |
| Who you checkin'? |
| This FN shoot East to West End (Gang) |
| Yeah |
| I heard Papi outside |
| And he got the double-R droppy outside |
| Checked the weather and it's gettin' real oppy outside |
| I'ma drop this shit and have these pussies droppin' like some motherfuckin' flies |
| Type of nigga that can't look me in the eyes |
| I despise |
| When I see you, better put that fuckin' pride to the side |
| Many times, plenty times, I survived |
| Beef is live, spoiler alert, this nigga dies |
| Keep blickies, and you know the weed sticky |
| My finger itchy, the Glock like to leave hickeys |
| Your shooters iffy, a street punk could never diss me |
| I come straight up out the 6, and we don't spare sissies |
| I fuck with her, and fuck with her, and her |
| I hit up err and tell him do the err, for sure |
| Voodoo curse, it got him while I flew to Turks |
| Know the dogs had to hit them where we knew it hurts |
| Gang shit, that's all I'm on (Yeah) |
| Gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Nigga, gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Nigga, gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Nigga, gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Let it bang, bang, let it bang, bang |
| 'Til his brains hang and his mama sang |
| And the pastor sang and them bullets sang |
| And them choppers sang and the choir sang |
| I'm on everything |
| Jacob charged me four-fifty for a tennis chain |
| US Open, had it on us at the tennis game |
| Tell the coach don't take me out, I like to finish games |
| And my pen insane, and my men insane |
| There's like eighty of us now, that's the scary thing |
| Shit they doin' on that other side embarrassing |
| We in Paris with it, hundred carats with it |
| All this shit is for my son, 'cause he's inheritin' it |
| If Young Metro don't trust you I'm gon' shoot you |
| Gang |
| Metro |
| Gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Nigga, gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Nigga, gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Nigga, gang shit, that's all I'm on |
| Gang shit, that's all I'm on, yeah |