Long Live Drakeo The Ruler

Yeah

Mm

Let me teach you somethin'

I'm tryna show you somethin', let me teach you somethin'

(Damn, what did he do to make them niggas that mad?)

A thousand hundred-dollar bills, a hundred thousand

A thousand stacks of thousands, that's a million dollars

They not exterminators, but they killin' mouses

I'm tryna drop a nigga, y'all be killin' houses

Damn, what the fuck is that?

You shoot the crib up, then you know that shit coming back

Nigga, shoot your granny crib up, get something splat

Nigga knock on your front door and run in with a MAC

Boom, that mean everybody dies

Everybody not gon' make a million, but everybody try

But is they really tryin'?

Them niggas said they slidin', but is we really dyin'?

You gotta think about it

Bring me a pint of Quagen, I'll drink the bottle

Chillin' with some young fine shit, she let me meet her mama

I met her yesterday, she let me beat tomorrow

Two-hundred-fifty K, I knock the weekend down, boy

I can make a million dollars every month

Just let me out this house, bitch, I'm gon' run it up

I think I drunk too much pop, I fucked my stomach up

But I wasn't drinking clean pops, boy, I poured something up

Like ooh, what you pour, Tris' or some Quagen?

Bitch, I had some Wock' on my tongue, I still can taste it

Nigga, last time you drunk Act' was 2018

Last time I drunk Alpharma January 18th, this year

When I did my first show

Do you know how it felt? I sold my first 'bow

I'll jump out on a skit wearing church clothes

Please don't play with baby bro, he really hurt folks, like real

Like really, like real life

I got this shit from Wafi, boy, this real ice

You went to status jeweler and got a deal twice

I signed with EMPIRE back in '19, ain't signed a deal twice

Nah, I'm still independent, I'm still in the trenches

If we talking 'bout work, I'm still in the kitchen

But the studio my kitchen, I be flippin' chickens

Give me thirty for a verse, I rap for fifty minutes, nigga

I'm a motherfuckin' scram scraper

I'm a gaffle boy, we get our damn paper

M.I.N.E Entertainment, that's the damn label

Come sign with us right now, we turn you up, baby

I just did a collab with the runt people

We smoking real weed, you little dumb people

Four thousand for a 'bow, but ain't nothin' for sale

I hate when niggas start this beef shit, then get they brother killed

Like damn, boy, you should've warned your family

Like, bitch, why you come over and you ain't wear no panties?

You must be tryna fuck, bitch, you out of luck

I'm Wockied up, I'm stockin' up

I done bust two nuts today, so I ain't got enough

I'll jump off stage right now and fuck somebody up

I'm chillin' with my old head, he poured some Quali' up

But he only poured a deuce, that shit just not enough, nigga, I'm gone