DRAKE

DRAKE - Tuscan Leather lyrics

rate me

Comin’ off the last record, I’m gettin’ 20 million off the record

Just to off these records, nigga that’s a record

I’m livin’ like I’m out here on my last adventure

Past the present when you have to mention

This is nothin’ for the radio, but they’ll still play it though

Cause it’s that new Drizzy Drake, that’s just the way it go

Heavy airplay all day with no chorus

We keep it thorough, nigga, rap like this for all of my borough niggas

I reached the point where don’t shit matter to me, nigga

I reached heights that Dwight Howard couldn’t reach, nigga

Prince Akeem, they throw flowers at my feet, nigga

I could go an hour on this beat, nigga

Damn, I’m just as famous as my mentor

But that’s still the boss, don’t get sent for

Get hype on tracks and jump in front of a bullet you wasn’t meant for

Cause you don’t really wanna hear me vent more

Hot temper, scary outcome

Here’s a reason for niggas that’s hatin’ without one,

that always let their mouth run

Bench players talking like starters, I hate it

Started from the bottom now we here, nigga, we made it

Yeah, Tom Ford Tuscan Leather smelling like a brick

Degenerates but even Ellen love our shit

Rich enough that I don’t have to tell ‘em that I’m rich

Self explanatory, you just here to spread the story

Sitting Gucci row like they say up at UNLV

Young rebel, Young Money nothing you could tell me

Paperwork taking too long, maybe they don’t understand me

I’ll compromise if I have to, I gotta stay with the family

Not even talkin’ to Nicki, communication is breakin’

I dropped the ball on some personal shit, I need to embrace it

I’m honest, I make mistakes, I’d be the second to admit it

Think that’s why I need her in my life, to check me when I’m trippin’

On a mission tryna shift the culture

Tell me who dissin’, I got some things that’ll hit the culprit

Them strep throat flows, y’all need to stop with all of the talkin’

All of the talkin’, got one reply for all of your comments

Fuck what you think, I’m too busy, that’s why you leave a message

Born a perfectionist, guess that makes me a bit obsessive

That shit I heard from you lately really relieved some pressure

Aye, B I got your CD, you get an E for effort

I piece letters together and get to talkin’ reckless

I don’t change like credentials, you know you see the necklace

My life’s a completed checklist

I’m tired of hearin’ ’bout who you checkin’ for now

Just give it time, we’ll see who’s still around a decade from now

That’s real

How much time is this nigga spendin’ on the intro?

Lately I’ve been feelin’ like Guy Pearce in Memento

I just set the bar, niggas fall under it like a limbo

The family all that matters, I’m just out here with my kinfolk

Off everything my pen wrote we went from Bundy to Winslow

This for shorty up on Glengrove who love when I catch my tempo

I sip the pouring and listen to Cappadonna

The Fresh Prince just had dinner with Tatiana, no lie

All these 90′s fantasies on my mind

The differences that remind, they all come true in due time

I might come through without security to check if you’re fine

It’s just me on my solo like fuck it, like YOLO

Wanted to tell you accept yourself

You don’t have to prove shit to know and accept yourself

And if you need up needing some extra help, then I can help

You know, back on your feet and shit

Tryna get my karma up, fuck the guilty and greedy shit

How much time is this nigga spendin’ on the intro?

How this nigga workin’ like he got a fuckin’ twin though?

Life is soundin’ crazy, 40 on Martin Scorcese

And I wouldn’t change a thing if you payed me, now real nigga wassup

How much time is this nigga spendin’ on the intro?

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