DRAKE - The Ride ft The Weeknd lyrics

rate me

[Drake]

You won’t feel me until everybody

Says they love you, but it’s not love

And your suit is Oxblood and your girl

Fuckin’ hates you and your friends faded off shots of

What you ordered

Then forget about the game you're on top of

Your famous girlfriend's ass getting

Thicker than the plot does

And when you forget it, that's when she pops up

And you got a drop but you ride around with the top up

I got 3 SUVs for niggas dressed like refugees

And deal with the questions

About all your excessive needs

And you do dinners at French Laundry and Napa Valley

Scallops and glasses of Dolce

That shit's right up your alley

You see a girl and you ask about her

Bitches smiling at you, it must be happy hour

They put the cloth across your lap soon as you sat down

It’s feeling like you on every place you choosing to be at now

Walking through airport security with your hat down

Intead of getting a pat down, they just keep on

Saying that they feel you nigga

[Hook - The Weeknd]

I’ve been faded too long

[Drake]

You won't feel me til you want it

So bad you tell yourself you’re in it

And tell the world around you

That your paperwork is finished

And steal your mother's debit cards

So you maintain an image

And ride around in overpriced

Rental cars that ain't tinted

You need a minute? You got it

You know its real when your

Latest nights are your greatest nights

The sun is up when you get home, that's just a way of life

Apartment 1503: some couches and paintings

When you record with 2 others that want the same things

It starts to feel better than home feels

And so you up there every night you swear you getting close

That champagne money was for gas and phone bills

But shit you bout to spend it on what matters most

You drop a couple songs and hopes that you can beat a nigga

And come out every night to let the city see the nigga

Telling stories that nobody relate to

And even though they hate you they

Just keep on telling you they feel you, nigga

[Hook]

[Drake]

I haven’t been inside terminal one and three in so long

I’m driving right up to it now

Make sure you got your coat on

That runway can be cold especially after summer's rolled on

And all you knew is alcohol and city lights and slow songs

Performance out the years, got you asking whats good at home

Whats good at home?

The same hoes are still at it, I shoulda known

My young niggas popping M’s and sipping dirty jones

Problem children that all be repping Octobers Own

Brand new girl and she still growing

Brand new titties, stitches still showing

Yeah and she just praying that the heals good

I’m bout to fuck and I’m just praying that it feels good

I really don’t know much but shit I know a secret

They say more money more problems, my nigga don’t believe it

I mean sure there’s some bills and taxes I’m still evading

But I blew six million on myself and I feel amazing

Young money maker, season ticket holder

Season switching over

I come through them bitches

Still scorching as if I didn’t notice

You niggas getting older, I see no threat in Yoda

I’m out here messing over the lives of these niggas

That couldn’t fuck with my freshman flowder

Look at that fucking chip on your nephews shoulder

My sophomore they was all for it, they all saw it

My Juniors and senior will only get meaner

Take Care nigga

Thanks to Kake for correcting these lyrics