Drake – First Person Shooter ft J. Cole

First Person Shooter is an amazing and interesting hip-hop and rap song created by a talented rapper, Drake featuring J. Cole.

This intriguing record which appeared on his top charting album project called “For All The Dogs” was officially released on 6 October 2023.

We would like you to add this undeniable hit song to your playlist, you won’t regret it yuh.

Listen up below!.

DOWNLOAD Drake First Person Shooter FREE AUDIO MP3

LYRICS

[J. Cole:]

(Pew, pew-pew)

First person shooter mode, we turnin’ your song to a funeral

To them niggas that say they want offices, you better be talkin’ my work in cubicles

Yeah, them boys had it locked, but I knew the code

Lot of niggas debatin’ my numeral, not the three, not the two, I’m the U-N-O

Yeah

Numero U-N-O

Me and Drizzy, this shit like the Super Bowl

Man, this shit damn near big as the-

[Drake:]

Big as the what? Big as the what? Big as the what?

Big as the Super Bowl

But the difference is it’s just two guys playin’ shit that they did in the studio

Niggas usually send they verses back to me and they be terrible, just like a two-year old

I love a dinner with some fine women

When they start debatin’ about who the G.O.A.T

I’m like “Go ‘head, say it then, who the G.O.A.T.?

“Who the G.O.A.T.? Who the G.O.A.T.? Who the G.O.A.T.?”

“Who you bitches really rootin’ for?”

Like a kid from January, then November, nigga, it’s just you and Cole

Big as the what? Big as the what? Big as the what?

Big as the Super Bowl

[J. Cole:]

Niggas so thirsty to put me in beef

Dissectin’ my words and start lookin’ too deep

I look at the tweets and start suckin’ my teeth

I’m lettin’ it rock ’cause I love the mystique

I still wanna get me a song with YB

Can’t trust everything that you saw on IG

Just know if I diss you, I made sure you know that I hit you like I’m on your caller ID

I’m namin’ the album The Fall Off, it’s pretty ironic ’cause it ain’t no fall off for me

Still in this bitch gettin’ bigger, they waitin’ on the kid to come jot like a father to be

Love when they argue the hardest MC, is it K-Dot, is it Aubrey or me?

We the big three like we started a league, but right now, I feel like Muhammed Ali

Huh, yeah, yeah, huh-huh, yeah, Muhammed Ali

Yeah, the one that they call when they shit ain’t connectin’ no more, feel like I got a job in IT

Rhymin’ with me is the biggest mistake

The Spider-Man meme is me lookin’ at Drake

It’s like we recruited your homies to beat demon deacons, we got ’em a ten in the weight

Hate how the gang gotta wait for the bars, man, this shit like a prison escape

Everybody steppers, well fuck it, then everybody breakfast and I’m ’bout to clear up my plate (Huh, huh, huh)

When I show up, it’s motion picture blockbuster

The G.O.A.T. with the golden pin, the top toucher

The spot rusher, sprayed his whole shit up, the crop duster

Not Russia, but apply pressure

To your cranium, Cole’s automatic when aimin’ ’em

With The Boy in the status, a stadium

Nigga

[Drake:]

Ayy, I’m ’bout to, I’m bout to

I’m ’bout to, yeah

Yeah

I’m ’bout to click out on this shit

I’m ’bout to click, woah

I’m ’bout to click out on this shit

I’m ’bout to click, woah

I’m down to click down you hoes and make a crime scene

I click the trigger on the stick like a high beam

Man, I was Bentley wheel whippin’ when I was nineteen

She call my number, leave her hangin’, she got dry-cleaned

She got an Android, her messages is lime green

I search one name, and end up seein’ twenty tings

Nadine, Christine, Justine, Kathleen, Charlene, Pauline, Claudine

Man, I pack ’em in this phone like some sardines

And they send me naked pictures, it’s just small things

You niggas is still takin’ pictures on a dog stream

My youngers richer than you rappers and they all stream

I really hate that you been sellin’ them some false dreams

Man, if your pub was up for sale, I buy the whole thing

Will they ever give me flowers? Well, of course not

They don’t wanna have that talk, ’cause it’s a sore spot

They know The Boy the one that got a boycott

I told Jim and Jammer I use a GRAMMY as a door stop

Girl gave me some head because I need it

And if I fuck with you, then after I might eat it, wait

Niggas talkin’ ’bout when this gon’ be repeated

What the fuck bro? I’m one away from Michael

Nigga, beat it, nigga, beat it, what?

[Outro:]

Beat it, what? Beat it, what? Beat it, what? Beat it, what?

Beat it, what? Beat it, what? Beat it, what? Beat it, what?

Beat it, what? Beat it, what? Beat it, what? Beat it, what?

Don’t even pay me back on no favors, I don’t need it