Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Ses


Arayüz


Zorluk seviyesi


Aksan



arayüz dili

tr

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Çerez politikası   |   Destek   |   FAQ
1
Kayıt Giriş
Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

5$

Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

10$

Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

20$

Lyrkit

Ve/veya beni sosyal medyada destekleyin. ağlar:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Drake

Knife Talk

 

Knife Talk

(albüm: Certified Lover Boy - 2021)


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 catching 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 fucking Raptor
No capper, street nigga, not a rapper
Chopper hit him and he turned into a booty clapper
Smith & Wesson, I'm 4L Gang repping
We done baptized more niggas than the damn reverend (Yeah)
Kappa Alpha, me and my gang, we do all the stepping
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 getting real oppy outside
I'ma drop this shit and have these pussies dropping like some motherfucking flies
Type of nigga that can't look me in the eyes
I despise
When I see you, better put that fucking 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 doing on that other side embarrassing
We in Paris with it, hundred carats with it
All this shit is for my son, 'cause he's inheriting 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

Tamamlandı

Bu şarkıdaki tüm yabancı kelimeleri eklediniz mi?