เนื้อเพลง Ignorant Sh*t - Drake

Yeah, I appreciate ya patience tonight
It's been a moment since I've done some public speaking
I find now-a-days it's just best to keep quiet
But uh, sometimes you jus gotta let it out
Young angel and young ryan
You know what it is, uh

[Drake:]

Look, I'm the property of october
I ain't drive here I got chauferred
Bring me champagne flutes,
Rose an some shots over
I think better when I'm not sober
I smoke good ain't no glaucoma
I'm a stockholder,

Private flights back home no stop over
Still spittin that sh*t that they shot pac over
The sh*t my mother look shocked over
Yeah, but with a canvas I'm a group of seven
A migraine, take two excedrin
I'm the one twice over I'm the new eleven
An if I die I'm a do it reppin, I never do a second
I swear n*ggas be eyein me all hard
An lyin to they girls an drivin the same cars
Sittin there wishin they problems became ours
Cause we have nothin in common

Since I done became star
I done became bigger swervin writin in my peer's lane
Same dudes that used to holla my engineer's name
One touch I could make the drapes an the sheers change
An show me the city that I without fear claim
What I set seems to never extinguish
Coolest kid out baby word to chuck inglish
Count my own money see the paper cut fingers
My song is ya girlfriend's wakin up ringer
Heh, or alarm, or whatever
She be here at six in the morn if I let her
But I never get attracted to fans

Cause the eager beaver could be the collapse of a dam
I always knew that I could figga
How to get these labels to offer 'em good figures
An me doin them shows gettin everyone nervous cause
Them hipsters gon have to get alone with them hood n*ggas
It's all good I'm goin off like lights when the show's over
Make pasta rent a movie called hoes over
Rest in peace to heath ledger but I'm no joker
I'll slow roast ya, got no holster
Wet glass on ya table n*gga no coaster
Burn bread everyday boy no toaster
G and tez got a cig but I'm no smoker

They jus handin chips to me n*gga no poker
I'm with it, young money, cash money soldier
My cup runneth over,
The same n*ggas I ball with, I fall with
On some southern drawl sh*t
Rookie of the year, '06 chris paul sh*t
D.r., c.j, an po' I see y'all
These cases don't workout I hope we can agree on
Makin enough to pay any judge off
First thing I'm a do is free weezy, go

[Lil Wayne:]
An I take probation
I don't want that t.I. an vick vacation
Private plane, big location
Goin to the bank to make a big donation
Yeah, ion stunt, I stunt hard
An if the food ain't on the stove I hunt for it
But in the meantime you can call me young roy
Jones junior fightin the drugs and gun charge
Sh*t, don't leave me un-guarded
And I'm a cheese head word to vince lombardi
Word to marky mark leave a snitch departed
All that blood like the red sea parted
My gun go crazy like it's retarded
Red light on it like it's recordin
I ain't recordin I'm jus C-4'in

My currency foreign
We are in a league they aren't
Better dig in ya pocket an pay homage
Better cover ya eyes ya face fallin
Watch the game from the side I'm play callin
No I didn't say that I'm flawless
But I, damn sure don't tarnish
My piss don't got comments for ya garments
I'm so high I can vomit on a comet
K-y no homo I'm on it

Weezy f baby new born b*tch
You know what they say bout when ya palm itch
I'm gon get money money I'm gon get
Young money in ya tummy an we gon sh*t
An get that toilet paper quick like when bones spit
That's right b*tch I'm back on my grown sh*t
That oughta marvin gaye no ice just chrome sh*t
And ya boyfriend softer than a phone bit
I scream f*ck the world with a long d*ck
Motherf*cker I'm me, yeah b*tch I'm me
You n*ggas sweet like the p*ssy in which I eat
Fireman burn down ya entire street
So fly I'm a take off when I leap, bye

And you can s*ck my wings
Stand on my money headb*tt yao ming
Putcha hand in the oven if ya touch my things
I'm shufflin the cards bout to cut my queens
But I ain't the dealer
House full of b*tches like tila tequila
Yeah, I'm the man in the mirror
My swagger jus screamin mothaf*cker do you hear her
Drizzy drake what the lick read
We make magic boy roy and sigfried
Whoo! young mulah baybee, yeah