Drake feat. 21 Savage & Project Pat – Knife Talk (with 21 Savage ft. Project Pat) Lyrics

Drake feat. 21 Savage & Project Pat Knife Talk (with 21 Savage ft. Project Pat) Lyrics

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’—
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 sixties
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
Till his brains hang, and his momma sang
And the pastor sang, and them bullets sang
And them choppas sang, and the choir sang
I’m on everything,
Jacob charged me four fifty for a tennis
ChainUS Open had it on I sat the tennis game
Tell the coach “Don’t take me out” I like to finish games
And my pendant sang, and I’m menacing
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, hunnid karats with it
All this shit is for my son, ’cause he inheritin’ it
If Young Metro don’t trust you I’m gon’ shoot you
Metro

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

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