Drake - Ignant sh** (Freestyle) lyrics

[Intro: Drake] Yeah, I appreciate your patience tonight It's been a moment since I've done some public speaking I find nowadays it's, you know, best to keep quiet But, uh, sometimes you just gotta let it out Young Angel and Young Lion, you know what it is [Verse 1: Drake] Look, I'm the property of October I ain't drive here, I got chauffeured Bring me champagne flutes, ros� and some shots over I think better when I'm not sober I smoke goodie, no glaucoma, I'm a stockholder Private flights back home, no stop over Still spittin' that sh** that they shot Pac over The sh** my mother look shocked over Yeah, but with a canvas I'm a group of seven A migraine, take two Excedrin I'm the one twice over, I'm the new eleven And if I die I'm a do it reppin', I never do a second I swear n***as be eyeing me all hard And lying to they girls and driving the same cars Sitting there wishing they problems became ours �Cause we have nothing in common since I done became star I done became bigger swerving writing in my peer's lane Same dudes that used to holler my engineer's name One touch I could make the drapes and the sheers change And show me the city that I without fear claim What I set seems to never extinguish Coolest kid out, baby, word to Chuck Inglish Count my own money, see the paper cut fingers My song is your girlfriend's waking-up ringer Heh, or alarm, or whatever She be here at six in the morn' if I let her But I never get attracted to fans �Cause the eager beaver could be the collapse of a dam I always knew that I could figure How to get these label heads to offer him good figures And me doing them shows Getting everyone nervous, �cause them hipsters gon' have to get along with them hood n***as It's all good, I'm going off, like lights when the show's over Make pasta, rent a movie, call hoes over Rest in peace to Heath Ledger, but I'm no joker I'll slow roast ya, got no holster Wet gla** on your table, n***a; no coaster Burn bread everyday, boy; no toaster G and Tez got a SIG, but I'm no smoker They just handin' chips to me, n***a; no poker I'm with it, Young Money, Cash Money soldier My cup runneth over The same n***as I ball with I fall with On some southern drawl sh** Rookie of the year, '06 Chris Paul sh** D-R., CJ, and Po, I see y'all These cases don't work out I hope we can agree on Making enough to pay any Judge Judy off First thing I'm a do is free Weezy, go [Verse 2: Lil Wayne] And I'd take probation I don't want that T.I. and Vick vacation Private plane, pick location I'm going to the bank to make a big donation Yeah, I don't stunt, I stunt hard And if the food ain't on the stove I hunt for it But in the meantime you can call me young Roy Jones Jr. fighting the d** and gun charge sh**, don't leave me unguarded And I'm a cheese head, word to Vince Lombardi Word to Marky Mark, leave a snitch departed All that blood like the red sea parted My gun go crazy, like it's retarded Red light on it, like it's recording I ain't recording, I'm just C-4ing My currency foreign; we are in a league they aren't Better dig in your pocket and pay homage Better cover your eyes, your face fallin' Watch the game from the side, I'm play callin' No, I didn't say that I'm flawless But I damn sure don't tarnish My pistol got comments for your garments I'm so high I can vomit on a comet K-y, no h*mo, I'm on it Weezy F Baby, new born b**h You know what they say 'bout when your palm itch I'm going get money, money I'm gon' get Young Money in your tummy and we gon' sh** And get that toilet paper quick, like when Bones spit That's right, b**h, I'm back on my grown sh** That Audemars Piguet, no ice, just chrome sh** And your boyfriend softer than a foam pit I scream, "f** the world with a long dick!" Motherf**er, I'm me! Yeah, b**h, I'm me! You n***as sweet, like the p**y in which I eat Fireman burn down your entire street So fly I'ma take off when I leap Bye! Then you can s** my wings Stand on my money, head bu*t Yao Ming Put your hand in the oven if you touch my things I'm shuffling the cards, 'bout to cut my queens But I ain't the dealer House full of b**hes, like Tila Tequila Yeah, I'm the man in the mirror My swagger just screaming, motherf**er, do you hear her? Drizzy Drake what the lick read We make magic, boy; Roy and Siegfried