Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Diplomatic Immunity, artist - Drake.
Date of issue: 19.01.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Diplomatic Immunity |
Diplomatic immunity, fuck 'em |
All that peace and that unity |
All that weak shit’ll ruin me, fuck 'em, yeah |
'Cause niggas started talkin' to me like I’m slowin' down |
Opinions over statistics, of course |
Gassed off journalistic |
Come at me and all you’ll get is the ballistic report |
Booked a private room at Wylie’s, waiter twistin' the cork |
I got multi-colored rings like the Olympics, of course |
At award shows, cuttin' through the tension, of course |
Girls huggin' me then askin' me, «what scent that is, boy?» |
I be walkin' around the Six, like I invented it, boy |
Yeah, who am I? |
The do or die, the one with the fewest lies |
And the truest ties, they try to compare us but |
Like a job straight out of high school |
There’s no you and I |
I taught you everything you know, now you got student pride |
All factual |
I call the house, the embassy |
The studio, the chapel, I hate to travel |
I just pulled up on Solana show, the girl’s a natural |
I knew her way back when Hollywood was international |
Yeah, the furthest I’ve been, that’s word to my ends |
Word to the flags that belong in the hood of my 'Benz |
Very presidential, I broke all the codes for zonin' in my residential |
I broke spirits that I never meant to |
My body isn’t much of a sacred temple, with vodka and wine |
And sleep at the opposite times |
Promise shit is gettin' out of line, like when you make a stencil |
Or getting out of line, like when you break a pencil |
Violatin' the treaty of Versailles, champagne is the alias, but no cease and |
desist in I |
I refuse to comply with regulations, I listen to heavy metal for meditation, |
no silence |
Like Sanders on the Detroit Lions |
Get a run around and I’ll bury you where they won’t find you |
Motor City Casino, I’m at the cage with my old license |
They tell me «don't worry, I got your money"like Osirus |
(I'm the Osiris of this shit) |
Dirty 30, workin' on me |
Tired of women that may tag me in pictures, airin' my dirty laundry |
Caterin' is from Giorgio Baldi, Robyn’s favorite |
Shit is nice, but I prefer Madeo |
Calamari rings and tomato |
I got the sauce and now shorty’s keep claimin' «preggo» |
Waking up at 6 PM like «where does the day go?» |
Forecastin' tornadoes, brainstormin' retaliation at dinner tables |
2010 was when I lost my halo |
2017 I lost a J. Lo |
A Rotterdam trip had me on front page, though |
I had to lay low, Hot Topic like your everyday clothes |
Closed off but I could never stay closed |
Billboard awards, I claimed 13 out in Vegas like Sureños |
Black excellence, but I guess when it comes to me it’s not the same though |
All goodie, that just pushed me to do the things we all couldn’t |
Niggas stakin' out the crib, it’s all gravy |
Protection that God gave me |
Shit is complex like short niggas 'round tall ladies |
I gotta watch who I’m talkin' to like it’s all agents |
I’ve seen buddin' careers turn to sit around and talk about other careers, |
judgin' their peers |
Knowledge from niggas who did not contribute to none of this here |
Cover my ears, my security government tier |
Yeah, advance the venue so we know the exits |
Check the guest list, if opps make an appearance at least it’s expected |
Tell ‘em I don’t want to link like a broken necklace |
I’ll be in better company with my own reflection |
Mirror, mirror, on the ceilin' of my suite in the Royal Palace |
The TV playin' Al Jazeera |
Inshallah, I hope the mission keeps on gettin' clearer |
Whenever, wherever, OVO will always be together like Shakira |
I love, I love |
I love, I love it |
Baby, I |