For Certified LoverDrake called on fellow hip-hop stars 21 Savage and Project Pat for the dynamic “Knife Talk.”
Upon its release in 2021, Drizzy’s album reached No. 1 on the Billboard 200 chart with 613,000 equivalent album units earned in the United States in the week ending September 9, according to MRC Data, the most large weekly sum for an album for over a year. . Nine of the album’s tracks reached the top 10 on the Billboard Hot 100 song chart, marking the first album to generate as many as nine top 10 Hot 100 hits. “Knife Talk” cut at No. 5.
If you need a guide to following Drake’s “Knife Talk” featuring 21 Savage and Project Pat, find the lyrics below:
Gotta feed the streets, my gun will bleed the streets
Ski mask on my face, sometimes you gotta cheat
To stay ahead in this whore-a (gang), I drank syrup like it was alcohol
Street life will make you catch up to God faster (yeah, gang)
Sticker, AK-40 to your liver
Let the chopper hit you like a Blood or a Cripper (gang)
Pinball, so much bread, I’m a gymnast
I made so much money with dummies, with dummies (yeah, gang)
I’m mister the body catcher, soul thief of the Slaughter Gang
This is no ordinary F-150, this Raptor
No capper, street n—a, not a rapper
Chopper hit him and he turned into a booty beater
Smith & Wesson, I’m the representative of the 4L Gang
We got more niggas baptized than a fuckin’ reverend (yeah)
Kappa Alpha, me and my gang, we do all the pitch
Who do you control? This FN shoot from east to west (gang)
Yeah
I heard Grandpa outside
And he got the droppy double R on the outside
I checked the weather and it’s getting really rough outside
I’ll drop that shit and drop these pies like a mother in the flies
Type of n—a who can’t look me in the eye
I despise
When I see you, better put that fucking pride aside
Many times, many times, I’ve survived
The beef is live, spoiler alert, it didn’t die
Keep the blickies, and you know the weed is sticky
My finger itches, the Glock likes to leave hickeys
Your dodgy shooters, a street punk could never diss me
I’m straight from 6, and we don’t spare sissies
I fuck with her, and fuck with her, and she
I hit the mistake and told him to make the mistake, of course
Voodoo curse, got it while I was flying to the Turks
I know the dogs had to hit them where we knew it hurt
Gang sh–, that’s all I am (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
Na, gang sh-, that’s all I am
Gang sh–, that’s all I am
Na, gang sh-, that’s all I am
Gang sh–, that’s all I am
Let it bang, bang, let it bang, bang
Until his brains hang out and his mama sings
And the pastor sang and the bullets sang
And these choppers sang and the choir sang
i’m on everything
Jacob charged me four hundred and fifty for a tennis chain
US Open, we got it at the tennis match
Tell the coach don’t take me out, I like to finish games
And my pen is crazy, and my men are crazy
We’re about eighty now, that’s the scary thing
Shit they do on the other side embarrassing
We are in Paris with, hundred carats with
All this shit is for my son, ’cause he inherits it
(If Young Metro don’t trust you, I’ll shoot you)
gang (yeah)
(Subway)
Gang sh–, that’s all I am
Gang sh–, that’s all I am
Na, gang sh-, that’s all I am
Gang sh–, that’s all I am
Na, gang sh-, that’s all I am
Gang sh–, that’s all I am
Na, gang sh-, that’s all I am
Gang sh–, that’s all I am, yeah
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Written by: Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph, Jerami Davis, Jordan Houston, Leland Tyler Wayne, Patrick Houston, Rakim Meyers, Robert Mandell, Aubrey Drake Graham
