I Gotta Feed the Streets My Pistol Lyrics Drake – CLB

Presenting you “I Gotta Feed the Streets My Pistol Lyrics Drake” by Drake from the album Certified Lover Boy. The song name is Knife Talk.

I Gotta Feed the Streets My Pistol Lyrics Drake

[Intro Project Pat & 21 Savage]
I gotta feed the streets, my pistol gon’ bleed the streets
Ski mask on my face, sometimes you got to cheat
To stay ahead (Gang) in this b^^chard, drank syrup-like its Liquor
Streetlife, I have you catching up to god quicker (Yeah, gang )
Sticker, Ak-40 to your liver
Let the choppa bang on your like a blood or criper (Gang )
Flipper, so much bread, I’m a gymnast
So much money off of dummies, off of dummies (Yeah, gang )

[Verse: 21 Savage]
I miss the, body catcher, slaughter gang soul snatcher
Ain’t no regular F-150, this a f^^kin’ Raptor
No capper, street n^^ga not a rapper
Choppa hit him and he turned into a b^^ty clapper
Smith & Wesson, I’m 4L gang reppin’
We done baptized more n^^gas than the damn Revеrend
Cap a Alpha, me and my gang, we do all thе steppin’
Who you checkin’? This FN shoot east to Westend (Gang)

[Verse: Drake]
Yeah, I heard Papi outside
And he got the double R, drop it outside
Check the weather and it’s gettin’ real oppie outside
I’m a drop this s^^t, and have these p^^sies droppin’ like some motherf^^kin’ {?}
Type of n^^gas that can’t look me in the eyes
I despise, when I see you better put that f^^kin’ pride to the side
Many time, plenty times, I survived
Beef is loud, spoiler alert, this n^^ga dies

[21 Savage]
Keep blicky’s, and you know the weed sticky
My finger itchy, the Glock like to leave hickey’s
Yo’ shooters iffy, A street punk could never diss me
I come straight up out the Six, and we don’t spell Sixties

[Drake]
I f^^k with her and f^^k with her, and her
I hit up {?} and tell him do the {?}, for sure
Voodoo curse, it got him while I flew to Turks
Know the dogs had to hit them where we knew it hurts

[Chorus: 21 Savage and Drake]
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on (Yeah)
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on, n^^ga
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on, n^^ga
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on, n^^ga
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on

[Verse: 21 Savage]
Let it bang bang, let it bang bang
Till his brains hang, and his momma sang
And the pastor sang, and them bullets sang
And them choppas sang, and the choir sang

[Drake]
I’m on everything, Jacob charged me a fifty for a tennis chain
You {?} had it on I sat the tennis game
Tell the coach “Don’t take me out” I like to finish games
And my pendant sang, and my menace sang
There’s like eighty of us now, that’s the scary thing
S^^t they doin’ on that other side, embarrassing
We in Paris with it, hunnid carrots with it
All this s^^t for my son, cause he inheritin’ it

If Young Metro don’t trust you I’m gon’ shoot you
Metro

[Chorus: 21 Savage]
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on (Yeah)
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on, n^^ga
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on, n^^ga
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on, n^^ga
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on
Gang s^^t, that’s all I’m on

Video Song

This is the end of “I Gotta Feed the Streets My Pistol Lyrics Drake”.