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Drake

"Mob Ties"

[Verse 1: Drake]
Ayy, sick of these n*ggas (sick)
Sick of these n*ggas (sick, sick)
Hire some help (help), get rid of these n*ggas (skrr)
Sick of this sh*t, move to the Ritz
Turned out the b*tch (ayy)
It is what it is, yeah
GLE, 'cause that Lambo movin' fast (skrr)
S Class, G Class, lotta class (sss, sss)
In a rocket and that b*tch ain't got no tags (skrr, skrr)
Louis bags in exchange for body bags, yeah

[Pre-Chorus 1: Drake]
Sick of these n*ggas (sick)
Sick of these n*ggas (sick, sick)
Hire some help (help), get rid of these n*ggas (grr)
f*ck what it was, it is what it is (what)
Whatever you did, it is what it is

[Chorus: Drake]
And I'm so tired (tired)
I f*ck with the mob and I got ties (lotta ties, lotta ties)
Knock you off to pay their tithes (do doo)
They want me gone but don't know why
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey sh*t
I'm your brother sh*t, all that other sh*t
It's too late for all that
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey sh*t
I'm your brother sh*t, all that other sh*t
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that

[Post-Chorus: Drake]
Ayy, sick of these n*ggas
I'm sick of these n*ggas
Hire some help, get rid of these n*ggas
I'm not with the ra-ra
I am a Dada
My b*tch in Chanel now
Your b*tch in Escada (sick, sick, sick, sick)

[Verse 2: Drake]
Yeah, and they shook
Please don't let them fool ya, I don't care how they look (nah)
Heard all of the talkin', now it's quiet, now it's shush (shh)
Twenty-nine is comin', they on edge when I cook (cook)
Lead the league in scorin', man, but look at my assists (shh)
Yes I be with Future but I like to reminisce (yeah)
I do not forget a thing, I'm patient, it's a gift (yeah)
Try to tell 'em they ain't got to do it, they insist (they insist)
Yeah, I can tell
I just gave 'em two for forty million like Chappelle (two)
Standin' over coffin with a hammer and a nail (two)
Heard you hit up so and so, that name don't ring a bell, nah

[Pre-Chorus 2: Drake]
Sick of these n*ggas (sick)
Hire some help, get rid of these n*ggas
I'm sick of this sh*t (sick, sick)
I'm runnin' a blitz (ayy)
Whatever you did (ayy), it is what it is

[Chorus: Drake]
And I'm so tired (tired)
I f*ck with the mob and I got ties (lotta ties, lotta ties)
Knock you off to pay their tithes (do doo)
They want me gone but don't know why
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey sh*t
I'm your brother sh*t, all that other sh*t
It's too late for all that
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey sh*t
I'm your brother sh*t, all that other sh*t
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that

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