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Drakeo the Ruler
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Ayy, you got a wack jumper All that pillow talkin' on the 'Gram and you ain't slap nothin' You know my n***as in the building, you see racks bustin' And I'm smokin' dope before my shows like I'm David Ruffin We can't contact You ain't talkin' blues, lil' baby, we can't contact b*t*h, I'm right through that— skrrt b*t*h, I'm right through that road like a lineback b*t*h, I'm— why you ask that? And I'm still— uh Used to f**k the— they broke up, now we back f**kin' Ayy, n***a— Paranoid behind tint clutchin' and this b*t*h Russian (Ayy, I'm Boutabag, ain't gotta ask me) I'm just a Boutabag n***a, why you ask that? (Why you ask that that?) In them trenches still, twin got that trap jumpin' (Twin got that trap jumpin') Used to f**k the b*t*h, they broke up, now we back f**kin' (Now we back f**kin') Paranoid behind tint clutchin' and this b*t*h Russian (And this b*t*h Russian) Ayy, n***a, you got a wack jumper (You got a wack jumper) All that pillow talkin' on the 'Gram and you ain't slap nothin' (You ain't slap nothin') You know my n***as in the building, you see racks bustin' (You see racks bustin') And I'm smokin' dope before my shows like I'm David Ruffin (b*t*h, I'm gettin' klocked) Baby gettin' thundered off this contact (Off this contact) You ain't talkin' bluеs, lil' baby, we can't contact (n***a, you can't contact) b*t*h, I'm right through that road like a lineback (Likе a lineback) And I'm tryna hit your old lady, where your mom at? (b*t*h, where your mom at?) Ayy, 'cause I'm gon' run it over (I'm gon' run it over) You in her purse off a pill, I'm in her while she sober (I'm in her while she sober) You don't hang out with no Benjis, all you n***as loners (You n***as bums) n***as only hard around a b*t*h, but he don't keep a blower (Ain't got the pole) Ayy, is you goofy? Pause (n***a) Brother out here trippin', he keep stick in his drawers (He keep stick in his drawers) Three hoes (Three hoes), call him Santa Claus (n***a) f**k a broke b*t*h, yeah, this rich d**k ain't for y'all (Ain't for y'all) You see these deadstock kicks? I ain't get 'em from the mall (I ain't get 'em from the mall) Lil' 'Sace belt, keep a pair of Ethis for the drawers (Keep a— for the drawers) She lookin' at me now, sound like round of applause (Goals) These b*t*hes say I'm poppin', say my locs gettin' long (Go, go, go) Wasn't f**kin' with me, I was on my ass, b*t*h, you wrong (b*t*h, you wrong) n***a speakin' on his bag, we gotta get him gone, ayy (Get that n***a) Slim thick bad b*t*h, Nia Long (Ah) b*t*h, I'm klocked in this b*t*h, Cheech & Chong (b*t*h, I'm klocked) I'm gon' f**k, now she need some Blues Clues, b*t*h, I'm gone (I gotta go) I remember days tryna bust a trap all alone (Ayy, I'm to the neck) Eyes on the road, don't answer on no phones (Don't answer on no phones) I'm the sh*t, now I always talk sh*t on microphones (Talk sh*t on microphones) Two-steppin' in my mode, on my whoadie, he gon' go (I miss my brother) I think I love Givenchy clothes, I'm off this dog, got me slumped (n***a, don't get smacked) I ain't playin' limbo, b*t*h, my eyes gettin' low (I'm in here klocked) Gang task pulled me over, said, "Sir, we smell smoke," ayy (We smell smoke) Ayy, you got a wack jumper All that pillow talkin' on the 'Gram and you ain't slap nothin' You know my n***as in the building, you see racks bustin' And I'm smokin' dope before my shows like I'm David Ruffin Baby gettin' thundered off this contact You ain't talkin' blues, lil' baby, we can't contact b*t*h, I'm right through that road like a lineback And I'm tryna hit your old lady, where your mom at? I got Pippi Longstocking in the compact Just got off the phone with Lil Boat, but this a Yacht-Master I see you dropped a couple shells, but I shot faster This Sheneneh, that's a stick, I'm a Glock master Always see me up in LA, I'm a top rapper Any foreign you can think of, n***a, I crashed it You seen us up in 2016, we was not rappin' We was wildin' in the streets, I done shot rappers Won't ever see me with a gun, n***a, I'm cappin' If it don't carry a drum, I cannot have it Just gave a n***a the business, I ain't no stock owner Brains all on Wall Street, I ain't no stock broker Boy, you carryin' a Hi-Point, you is not focused A hundiddy on his block left the Glock smokin' All them pictures with them blowers, you do not own one His mans was a free throw, he got a wack jumper A hundiddy on his block left the Glock smokin' All them pictures with them blowers, you do not own one His mans was a free throw, he got a wack jumper He pulled up actin' like a b*t*h, I had to slap on him, ugh Ayy, you got a wack jumper All that pillow talkin' on the 'Gram and you ain't slap nothin' You know my n***as in the building, you see racks bustin' And I'm smokin' dope before my shows like I'm David Ruffin Baby gettin' thundered off this contact You ain't talkin' blues, lil' baby, we can't contact b*t*h, I'm right through that road like a lineback And I'm tryna hit your old lady, where your mom at?
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