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🎤 “Drake – Pussy & Millions Feat. 21 Savage & Travis Scott” Lyrics:

[Intro: Drake]
No, no, no, no, no, no
No, no, no, no, no
Major distribution, man, my label on my dick, for real
Fuckin’ with your friend and she ain’t tell you, y’all ain’t shit, for real
I’ve been out here crushin’ on success, now she my bitch, for real
You say I’m persuasive, girl, but you can’t spell that shit, for real

[Verse 1: Drake & Lil Yachty]
Hmm, hmm, in this mansion, I’m Macaulay Culkin
Paid in full, I’m Mekhi Phifer
Know you’re tired, we just did dinner for three hours
Lyin’ to me all night
Buyin’ Benz Benzes out of spite
Paid a hundred, ran up somethin’ light
Simple price to keep ’em out my life
Booby Trap, we need a business office
Magic City need a business office
Twenty-nine, I keep a business office
I’m in lovе with Houston, Dallas, Austin
Tell your guys to hold off on the team
Changеd, seem like they may need money for coffins
Cuban girl, a fan of ground coffee
Text me on the signal, don’t call me
Hmm, hmm, major distribution, labels call me
Bad Bunny numbers, it’s a robbery
Five-hundred million, just for Aubrey
Hmm, hmm, yeah, major distribution how I pop it
Mention me to be the hottest topic
Same place you singin’, bitch, you shoppin’

[Chorus: Drake]
Okay, go stupid, go stupid
Go stupid, go stupid
Go stupid, go stupid
Okay, okay, go stupid, stupid
Go stupid, go stupid
Go stupid, go stupid
Go stupid, okay

[Verse 2: 21 Savage]
Nigga tried to play this shit light, play it cool, play me like I’m sweet
Fuckin’ on an opp nigga bitch, say she miss the golds in my teeth
4L shit, know we steppin’, y’all should get to funeral preparin’
SF90, this is not McLaren, make an IG model run my errands
He gon’ miss and we gon’ spin his parents, stayed in Houston long as Steve Francis
Shoot his feet, got him doin’ dances, wiggin’ niggas like I played at Kansas
Ever seen somebody get shot? Lot of shit I seen before the top
I ain’t tryna wrestle like The Rock, fuck the trish, I’d rather sip the wock
Lot of things I do to stay alive, everythin’ except for call the cops
Savage still let his gun pop, FOX 5 gang, get you knocked
Major distribution, labels callin’, Harry Styles numbers, it’s a robbery
My niggas go in-Zayn to catch a body, we was face to face, you could’ve shot me

[Chorus: Drake]
Okay, go stupid, go stupid
Go stupid, go stupid
Go stupid, go stupid
Okay, okay, go stupid, stupid
Go stupid, go stupid
Go stupid, go stupid
Go stupid, okay

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15 COMMENTS

  1. Drake – Pussy & Millions Feat. 21 Savage & Travis Scott Lyrics
    [Chorus: Drake & Lil Yachty]
    I been out, late night creepin', should I slide on bitches?
    Posted up with the militia
    Niggas ain't switchin', mind on missions
    Mind on pussy and millions, mind on pussy and millions
    I'm tryna call a sex symbol to eat my kids up
    They say more money, more problems (Will)
    Bring on the problems (Will)
    Bring on the problems (Will)
    Bring on the motherfuckin' problems
    They say more money, more problems
    Bring on the problems
    Bring on the problems
    Bring on the motherfuckin' problems, ayy

    [Verse 1: Drake]
    Braided up and my two weeks up
    Hit 'em then I get amnesia
    Life ain't gettin' any easier
    Flaca, Flacasita
    I know that I'm not in love, she don't love me either
    It's just hard to find the love, this shit keep on gettin' deeper
    Who said it's cheaper to keep her?
    I'd rather release her
    Body ain't give her the wave like a feature
    You know the procedure
    Niggas is praying to God so we stay with the sweeper
    I'm reppin' 4L with my twinny, so treacherous introduce y'all to the leader

    [Verse 2: 21 Savage]
    Come to me with all the smoke
    I like the money, for sure
    But I love the hustle the most
    She pretty, she show off her toes
    And my Pateks, they came with a pole
    Know this money bring envy and jealousy
    I'm like, "Fuck it, I want me some more"
    Hit her from the back, she bent up
    Playin' with the money, get spent up
    Chains on my neck, no Kente
    You the type of girl I pay rent for
    Suck it in the car, that's what the tint for
    Bought me a plane, not a sprinter
    Quarter-million dollars on her dental
    She say I'm a stepper, but gentle

    [Chorus: Drake]
    I been out, late night creepin', should I slide on bitches?
    Posted up with the militia
    Niggas ain't switchin', mind on missions
    Mind on pussy and millions, mind on pussy and millions
    I'm tryna call a sex symbol to eat my kids up
    They say more money, more problems (Will)
    Bring on the problems (Will)
    Bring on the problems (Will)
    Bring on the motherfuckin' problems
    They say more money, more problems
    Bring on the problems
    Bring on the problems
    Bring on the motherfuckin'

    [Part II]

    [Verse 3: Travis Scott]
    Only signin' the gang
    We the new Lucian Grainge
    Bring on the rings (Yeah)
    Her MJ thing, I'm talkin' a Brady thing
    I'm off of the juice, never could cycle the mix
    Rockin' the braids, not the twists
    Full puff, he can't comb
    Not actin' like Christians in here
    But Christian Dior in they homes, the bigger we get
    Gotta thank God for this, I got a lot that I give
    I be handin' out gifts like the Christmas on twenty-fifth
    Out in the twenties inside of the twenty and
    Said I would buy the jet 'fore I could 'fford this shit
    Now I got the jet, building the landing strip
    In the back of the crib, I record the hits
    In the front of the crib they valet the whips
    (How many whips I need? Let's go)
    Breakin', breakin' the records, more money, more problems
    They come with the status
    Runnin' through customs when you run the atlas
    I got accustomed, accustomed the fastest
    I'm talkin' 'bout fabrics, I'm talkin' 'bout mattress
    I never sleep, though I sleep with a baddie
    I'm movin' deep 'cause that's just how it's happenin' (Ooh)
    If you come out, just be ready for action (La Flame)
    Just needed some time
    I settled my time, now they see the signs
    You didn't leave me solo, right here, all alone
    You held it down for me, right on my own (Ooh)
    Young nigga get it, just try to get home
    I got a rolodex all on my phone and it's still wrong

    [Chorus: Travis Scott & Drake]
    I been out, late night creepin', should I slide on bitches?
    Posted outside with militia
    Niggas ain't switchin', mind on mission
    Mind on pussy and billions, mind on pussy and billions
    You know I got a sex symbol, that eat my kids, uh
    They say more money, more problems
    Bring on the problems
    Bring on the problems
    Bring on the motherfuckin' problems
    They say more money, more problems
    Bring on the problems
    Bring on the problems
    Bring on the motherfuckin'—

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