Drake – Knife Talk ft 21 Savage & Project Pat

Award winning Canadian rapper, Drake collides with 21 Savage and Project Pat in the making of this masterpiece titled “Knife Talk”.

This intriguing record which appeared on his top charting album project called “Certified Lover Boy” was officially released on 3 September 2021.

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

Listen up below!.

DOWNLOAD Drake Knife Talk FREE AUDIO MP3

LYRICS

I gotta feed the streets, my pistol gon’ bleed the streets

Ski mask on my face, sometimes you got to cheat

To stay ahead in this bitch-ard (Gang), drank syrup like it’s liquor

Street life’ll have you catchin’ up to God quicker (Yeah, gang)

Sticker, AK-40 to your liver

Let the chopper bang on you like a Blood or a Cripper (Gang)

Flipper, so much bread, I’m a gymnast

Made so much money off of dummies, off of dummies (Yeah, gang)

I’m mister body catcher, Slaughter Gang soul snatcher

Ain’t no regular F-150, this a fuckin’ Raptor

No capper, street nigga, not a rapper

Chopper hit him and he turned into a booty clapper

Smith & Wesson, I’m 4L Gang reppin’

We done baptized more niggas than the damn reverend (Yeah)

Kappa Alpha, me and my gang, we do all the steppin’

Who you checkin’? This FN shoot East to West End (Gang)

Yeah

I heard Papi outside

And he got the double-R droppy outside

Checked the weather and it’s gettin’ real oppy outside

I’ma drop this shit and have these pussies droppin’ like some motherfuckin’ flies

Type of nigga that can’t look me in the eyes

I despise

When I see you, better put that fuckin’ pride to the side

Many times, plenty times, I survived

Beef is live, spoiler alert, this nigga dies

Keep blickies, and you know the weed sticky

My finger itchy, the Glock like to leave hickeys

Your shooters iffy, a street punk could never diss me

I come straight up out the 6, and we don’t spare sissies

I fuck with her, and fuck with her, and her

I hit up err and tell him do the err, for sure

Voodoo curse, it got him while I flew to Turks

Know the dogs had to hit them where we knew it hurts

Gang shit, that’s all I’m on (Yeah)

Gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Nigga, gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Nigga, gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Nigga, gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Let it bang, bang, let it bang, bang

‘Til his brains hang and his mama sang

And the pastor sang and them bullets sang

And them choppers sang and the choir sang

I’m on everything

Jacob charged me four-fifty for a tennis chain

US Open, had it on us at the tennis game

Tell the coach don’t take me out, I like to finish games

And my pen insane, and my men insane

There’s like eighty of us now, that’s the scary thing

Shit they doin’ on that other side embarrassing

We in Paris with it, hundred carats with it

All this shit is for my son, ’cause he’s inheritin’ it

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

Gang

Metro

Gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Nigga, gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Nigga, gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Nigga, gang shit, that’s all I’m on

Gang shit, that’s all I’m on, yeah