DRAKE


9 Am In Dallas Lyrics

Yeah uh yeah
These are my one St Thomas flows
Me and my niggas and some madonna hoes
That look just like virgins but trust they down to go
Discussin’ life and all our common goals
Smart kids that smoke weed, honor roll
Look how the champagne diamonds flow
Fine dining, pour another another glass when the wine
is low
Im in the crib stackin’ money from here to the ceilin’
Whatever it is I got is clearly appealin’
These other rappers gettin’ at it very you feelin
I hope you feel it in your soul spiritual healin’
Take a look at yourself the mirror’s revealin’
If you ain’t got it you ain’t got it the theory is
brilliant
People ask how music is goin’ I heard it pays
I just came off makin’ 2 million in 30 days
Damn I guess it does what the message was
Sometimes I feel I be spendin’ my money just because
But weezy im just out here reppin’ us
Till I get to shake the hand of the man that’s blessin’
us
Yeah, I know these niggas miss the mean lyrics
Kush got the room smellin’ like teen spirit
I asked kindly if no-one out here would bring there
feet up
Until I lose for now I’m the game’s single leader
I fly private so no-one tells me to bring my seat up
And book a suite when me and your favorite singer meet
up
Who you like, tell me who it is
Imma make sure that that women is the next one on my
list
I should call it a night but fuck it I can’t resist
This one is for all my niggas from my city tryin to
diss
Without a responce from me you really fail to exist
And I love to see you fail that feelin’ there is the
sh-t
I swear, aghh p-ssy n-gga get your bread up
Enjoy the seat that the steward just forced your ass to
let up
Why your scary ass lookin’ down pick your head up
No-one told you your disguise is the most ridiculous
gettup
With nose plugs in now I can smell a set up
So your just wastin your time your just only makin me
better
Yeah I try to tell them don’t judge me because you
heard stuff
Chasin’ cash that’s my brother from the surf club
Damn that n-gga always kept it so hood
Back when we would smoke good
At the oakwoods
And have girls fall through like coins in a couch
Now we just f-ckin all the b-tches they warned us about
Scared for the first time everything has clicked
What if I dont really do the numbers they predict
Considerin the fact that im the one that they just
picked
To write a chapter in history this sh-t has got me sick
But if I really do it dont expect to get a split
Cause this truly is some sh-t I don’t expect you all to
get
Im nervous but im about to kill it cause they about to
let the realist team in
Throwin up in a huddle n-gga Willie beamin
Were still throwin touchdown passes
And tore his frame glasses
Hopin that someone catch it
People say that oh drake we started to miss it
But they need to be a little more specific man is this
what yall want?
In my best chris tucker impression
Ducking your questions
F-ck your suggestions
Money gets all of my love and affection
Cars all black like the cover of essence
I’m allergic to comin in second
But I never sneeze
N-gga YMOE n-gga yeeah
Uh, yeah, this what yall want
Octobers Very Own
Young Money
ATF
Thank me later in this b-tch wasssup
Free Weezy in this b-tch wasup
June 15th in this b-tch wasup

Correct these lyrics

these lyrics are submitted by Me
these lyrics are last corrected by Edwin Vidana

Songwriter(s): Aubrey Drake Graham, Aubrey Graham, Matthew Samuels, Matthew Raymond Burnett, Matthew Burnette
Copyright: Sony/ATV Tunes LLC, Emi Blackwood Music Inc., 1 Daniable Publishing LLC, Live Write LLC, 1damentional Publishing LLC, Universal Music Corp.
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