[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