Drake On Bs Song Lyrics
Yeah, whoa, whoa, whoa
I had to cut some niggas off, they didn’t mean me no goodI come from the ghetto, so my trunk is in my hoodShe wouldn’t wear no panties ’round me even if she couldGave out plenty spankings ’til they got it understoodFuck the nosebleeds, baby, come sit on this woodIf you know it’s tension, don’t come ’round me like it’s goodI got street smarts and you can’t get this out no bookI can’t right my wrongs, but I can still write these hooks
Oh, time to get exposedYou ain’t been from ’round here, nigga, come get off your showSavage said you pussy and he hit it on the noseBut that border’s open, why you actin’ like it’s closed?I don’t knowY’all be goin’ in and out recessionsThe same way that I be goin’ in and out of TexasOr in and out my sessions, or in and out her best friendsOr in and out these courtrooms, my lawyer like, “Objection”
Yeah, whoa, whoaAll my bitches Spanish, BoricuaWater on my neck, these diamonds came with coral reeferShe from overseas, I had to buy her a new visaMet your wife in Vegas, but I hit her in IbizaShe a supermodel, so she only eatin’ CaesarUsed to date a rapper, but he acted like a divaNiggas hustlin’ backwards, out here ballin’ with the re-upPopped an Adderall, I feel like I can lift a tree upSeen too many cameras, so I never lift my ski up (yeah)I jump on your song and make you sound like you the featureI jump on your song and make a label think they need ya, for real (yeah)
On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (okay)On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (okay)On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (okay)On that bullshit, we on all the bullshit (okay)On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (okay, okay)On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (yeah)On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (okay)All the bullshit
Damn, maybe I should do a twenty, maybe I should break that twenty, do a tenMaybe I should break that ten, do a five, then if it gets live, do a five againIf he held his tongue on that live, he’d be alive again, damnMy uncle’s sister know she raised a real one, ill oneIt’s been thirty minutes, I don’t feel nothin’Oh shit, wait a minute, think I’m startin’ to feel somethin’Where you get this motherfuckin’ pill from?Heard they got some sanctions on my nameHeard they plottin’ on my name, heard they bankin’ on my nameI got Lita in this bitch and he might spank it on a laneI’m just- what? In the cut, throwin’ Franklins on her frameI’m a- ayy, I’m a gentleman, I’m generousI blow a half a million on you hoes, I’m a feministI never put no prices on the beef until we end this shitI pay a half a million for his soul, he my nemesis
On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (okay)On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (okay)On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (okay)On that bullshit, we on all the bullshit (okay)On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (okay, okay)On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (yeah)On that bullshit (okay), on that bullshit (okay)All the bullshit
Nah, I’m on, it’s midnight, I don’t careNothing’s happening on a Wednesday, I don’t care, I’m onI’m looking for the smokeThese guys sitting front row, man, poof, who needs that?Let me put my window down, I need fresh airWe don’t want that, we want barsThe reason why we listen to 21 and The BoyThat’s what we do in Paris, we don’t do Fashion WeekFashion Week, it’s for the last decade, it’s not for usIt’s about the lights, the lights that we put on in the cityThe lights of the Eiffel TowerI’m in charge of it, I’m the one who’s putting it on every dayAnd you try to flex next, next to me on the red light with your uglyWhatever, flexing, most expensive car, V12I drive a four-cylinder, I come from nothing but I’m doing somethingAnd you cannot catch my driveAs fast as you try to go, you will never catch me, manThere is only one way, and this way I’m driving, nobody can do itI’m Birdman, that’s who I amIn ParisBrrt, brrt