Drake - The Ride (Ft. The Weeknd)
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DRAKE


The Ride Lyrics (ft. The Weeknd)

[intro]
i hate when people say they feel me man, i
hate that shit.
it'll be a long time before yall feel me,
if ever

[verse 1]
you won't feel me til everybody say they
love you, but it's not love
and your suit is oxblood and your girl f-
ckin' hates you and your friends faded off
shots of
what you ordered than forget about the game
you on top of
your famous girlfriend ass gettin' thicker
than the plot does
and when you forget it, thats when she pop
up
and you got a drop but you ride around with
the top up
i get 3 suv's for niggas dressed like
refugees
and deal with the questions about all your
excessive needs
and you do dinners at french laundry and
napa valley
scallops and glasses of dolce, that shit
right up your alley
you see a girl and you ask about her
bitches smiling at ya, it must be happy
hour
they put the cloth across your lap soon as
you sat down
it's feeling like you own every place you
choosing to be at now
walking through airport security with your
hat down
'stead of gettin' a pat down, they just
keep on saying that they feel ya nigga

yeah,
it's been too long
been way too long

[hook - the weeknd]
i'm faded too long, oooh
still i'm faded too long, oooh
still i've been faded too long
i feel like i'm faded too long
the ride

[drake - verse 2]
you wont feel me til you want it so bad you
tell yourself you're in it
and tell the world around you that your
paper work it's finished
and steal your mothers debit cards so you
maintain an image
and ride around in overpriced rental cars
that aint tinted
you need a minute, you got it
you know its real when your latest nights
are your greatest nights
the sun is up when you get home, thats just
a way of life
apartment 160

3, some couches and paintings
when you record with 2 others that want the
same things
yeah, it start to feel better than home
feels
and so you up there every night you swear
you getting close
that champagne money was for gas and phone
bills
but shit you bout to spend it on what
matters most
you drop a couple songs and hopes that you
can beat a nigga
and come out every night to let the city
see the nigga
telling stories that nobody relate to
and even though they hate you they just
keep on telling you they feel ya nigga

[hook - the weeknd]

[drake - verse 3]
i haven't been inside terminal 1 and 3 in
so long
i'm driving right up to it now, make sure
you got your coat on
that runway can be cold especially after
summers rolled on
and all you knew is alcohol and city lights
and slow songs
performance out the years, got you asking
whats good at home
whats good at home?
the same hoes are still at it, i shoulda
known
my young niggas poppin' m's and sippin'
dirty jones
problem children that all be reppin'
octobers own
brand new girl, and she still growing
brand new titties, stitches still showing
yeah and she just praying that the heals
good
i'm bout to f-ck and i'm just praying that
it feels good
i really don't know much but shit i know a
secret
they say more money more problems, my nigga
don't believe it
i mean sure there's some bills and taxes
i'm still evading
but i blew 6 million on my self and i feel
amazing
young money maker, season ticket holder
season switching over
i come through them bitches still scorching
as if i didn't notice
you niggas gettin' older, i see no threat
in yoda
i'm out here messing over the lives of
these niggas
that couldn't f-ck with my freshman flow
look at that f-cking chip on your nephews
shoulder
my sophomore they was all for it, they all
saw it
my juniors and senior will only get meaner
take care nigga

[hook]

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these lyrics are submitted by BURKUL3

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Songwriter(s): Doc Mckinney, Sarah Catherine de Courcy-Aston, Martin Mckinney, Austin de Courcy Bascom, Adrian Eccleston, Aubrey Graham, Abel Tesfaye, Anthony George Palman
Copyright: Emi Blackwood Music Inc., Songs Of Smp, Songs Deal, Mykai Music, Ultra Tunes (ASCAP), Abel Tesfaye Publ. Designee (SOCAN
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