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Here Are the Lyrics to Drake's 'Mob Ties'

Drake photographed in 2016.
Caitlin Cronenberg

Drake photographed in 2016.

Watch how you speak on Drake's name, or else he will cut you off with his "Mob Ties," as he sings about in the A-side track currently claiming the No. 28 spot on the Billboard Hot 100 (dated July 21). Even though he wasn't bred in the streets, the Scorpion rapper sure does have friends who were and can take care of his dirty business.

And for those rappers who have had beef with Drake in the past, he clearly states he's not about to shake hands and extend an olive branch of peace. "It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit/ I'm your brother shit, all that other shit," he raps.

See the lyrics to "Mob Ties" below:

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 shit, move to the Ritz
Turned out the bitch (ayy)
It is what it is, yeah
GLE, 'cause that Lambo movin' fast
S Class, G Class, lotta class
In a rocket and that bitch ain't got no tags
Louis bags in exchange for body bags, yeah

Sick of these n*ggas (sick)
Sick of these n*ggas (sick, sick)
Hire some help (help), get rid of these n*ggas (grr)
Fuck what it was, it is what it is
Whatever you did, it is what it is

And I'm so tired (tired)
I fuck with the mob and I got ties (got the ties, got the ties)
Knock you off to pay their tithes (oh)
They want me gone but don't know why
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
It's too late for all that
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that

Ayy, sick of these n*ggas
Sick of these n*ggas
Hire some help, get rid of these n*ggas
I'm not with the ra-ra
I am a da-da
My bitch in Chanel now
Your bitch in the Spider (sick, sick, sick)

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)

Sick of these n*ggas (sick)
Hire some help, get rid of these n*ggas
I'm sick of this shit (sick, sick)
I'm runnin' a blitz
Whatever you did, it is what it is

And I'm so tired (tired)
I fuck with the mob and I got ties (got the ties, got the ties)
Knock you off to pay their tithes
They want me gone but don't know why
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
It's too late for all that
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that lovey-dovey shit
I'm your brother shit, all that other shit
It's too late for all that, ayy
It's too late for all that
 

Lyrics licensed & provided by LyricFind

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Written by: Aubrey Graham, Allen Ritter, Nasir Jones, Jean-Claude Olivier, Dave Atkinson, Matthew Samuels, Tavor Hollins Jr., Samuel Barnes, Anthony Cruz, Inga Marchand, Cory McKay


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