Drake

[Produced by Doc McKinney and The Weeknd] [Intro: Russ] Yeah Yeah [Verse 1: Russ] Taking bottles to the face like Tony Parker Half a million dollars, that can't be your only offer Writin' 'bout the truth, hope I'm not the only author Talking to this girl, feeling like her only father Running shit like fugitives Take my hammer to these MC's cause I'm too legit No ones rapping for the passion, y'all just do this cause it's lucrative Foolishness, that's why y'all barely make it to your debut And never see your second, man I hope these minutes save you Cause our time is limited Hope you start something and finish it Run that fucking marathon, shoutout to Nipsey spittin' it Momma told me sign a deal, I know she's been waitin' on it Labels tryna' gas me up and break me but I ain't breaking on it Imma' wait it out and exercise my fucking patiences on it Verses hit you like a shot, hooks, like their laced with chronic Not to mention all the beats you've swallowed, Imma' make you vomit Too ill, too real This is what the truth feels [Refrain: Russ] Like Mike, 23, by the time I'm 23 Imma' have some accolades that blow my brain like Kennedy [Verse 2: Russ] Five on five, Inside my mind, it's feeling like this ten to me Hope that I can make it, to the day, where these memories Fade away to long, I hope this ride Isn't the death of me Cause I got duty to make these fooly rappers lemon squeeze Emmys please Oscars maybe, Grammys that's a definite Imma' fuck the game, present the body just for evidence Platinum albums on my wall, somewhere In my Bungalow Universe is my judge and my jury, yeah I'm under oath Got the weight, in my work, yeah I got a ton of dope Money so clean it feels dirty, that's all I fuckin' wrote [Outro: Russ] That's all I fuckin' wrote Man I just came to vent Yeah