LYRICS: Lil Wayne – Family Feud Ft. Drake

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Lil Wayne - Family Feud (Remix) ft. Drake

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Full Lyrics of Lil Wayne’s verison of Family Feud featuring Drake.

[Intro: Drake & Beyoncé]
Yeah
Dedication 6, of course
Shoutout Guru for sending me the beat, too
Young Angel, Young Lion
More Life, no dying
Yeah
Alright I got it
Yeah

[Verse 1: Drake]
Super Bowl goals
I’m at the crib with Puff, He got Kaepernick on the phone
He in a whole different mode
Angel head, 2AM for being HOV
Just to show them how I treat the city like my humble abode
Ayy, tell me if TD bank is approving loans
I’m thinking about paying Wayne what Universal owes
My nigga spend a lifetime going platinum and gold
He should own half of the label, shit outta control
Somebody get Larry Jackson on the phone
I need some ownership if we pressing go
‘Cause business is booming on behalf of me
I need a bite outta the apple like Adam and Eve
We gon’ have to break the billi’ curse
I need my paper long like “A Milli” verse
Or, too long like a sentence from a Philly judge
Fuck is the point in all the beefing when we really blood
Nobody wins when the family feuds, nigga
Everybody gotta eat, we can’t exclude niggas
I make the crib, expanding pools, and expanding rooms
Adding her mom’s spas with tanning booths, nigga
That’s truth, no boost nigga
But this isn’t all about calling truce
I’m still dishing out verbal abuse
That should get re-introduced if somebody got something they urging to prove, nigga
Inspiring to the youth
New Years Eve, looking like a royal flush
Wait, we all in the same suit
I’m hall of fame in the booth, nigga
My Karma making the news, nigga
This pudding taste like the proof, nigga
If I ever see Trump he better salute niggas
Much as we do nigga
For real

[Interlude: Lil Wayne]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Six shit

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
I could care less about the squad
I don’t connect when I’m flying
I’m on a jet and it’s mine
I just hope the weather is fine
I took the jet to Dubai
I took the jet to Milan
I took the jet way to Africa
Shoutout my nigga Akon
Your bitch sweating my squad
Please get the sweat out her eye[?]
I put the dick in her spine
I fucked the bitch in her prime
Don’t get my credit declined
Give all the credit to moms
I flipped the bird at the bird
Hey whats for dinner? Popeyes
These chickens got bird flu
And they chirp, chirp too
Always sung, never flew
These boys hide girls too
If money grow on trees, I climb and rest in that bitch
Build a treehouse and knocked the bird nest out that bitch
Stuck my neck out and shit
Then got the heck out that shit
And when I did, I took the special effect out of that shit
Tunechi F ’round this bitch
The best thing left ’round this bitch
All you niggas some bitches I feel like Hef ’round this bitch
You call her Stephanie
I call her [Steph] ’round this bitch
Now back to whipping the baby
On some step mama shit
I come direct with my shit
I come correct with my shit
A blank check on your face
Put some respect on my shit
Branches starting to shake
Here comes the leaves, get the rake
I want my piece of the cake
And she’ll be sweeter than cake
And come the leaves, get the rake
And we ain’t leaving the rake
We made the cleaners escape
Although I bleeped in your face
You planned to write today
Your flags are white one today
You wearing them white ones today
Check me a ride today
You playing with fire today
The Angel and Lion are greats
On my god, lighting striking twice in this place
Should we make a wish or should we make it right in this place
All these mother fucking beef I need some rice on this plate
Talked to your wifey today, she feeling [?] she say
Talked to the sniper, he say
He aiming at diapers today
Pick you off today like picking peppers, Peter Piper today
So tell your squad I say “BLAOW” like Spice1 would say
It’s Mortal Combat tonight, it’s Street Fighter today
I’m Major Bison, Drizzy lit like Raiden light up the place
You see blue face hundreds ’til you white in the face
Oh my god, it feel like I done give life to this place
But swear to god, I got money doing life in my safe
Put on the gloves like MJ, go from Jeter or Jay
I make you pay attention then rip your receipt right in your face
This receipt didn’t [?]
This for my people and BAPE
I got three sons of a gun
Them niggas keep me on safe
Hold up
I am the black god to the church
I am the fat boy to dessert
I am the landlord to the first
I got two bangers, one of them go “boutta boom”
One of them go “boutta bing”
I taught these hoes how to love
I taught these boys how to lean
I’m hiding the sky in her twinkle
The eyes don’t lie until you blink them
Keep the eye for the wrinkles
The magic came with the sprinklers
I want Arabian wealth
You snakes come make me a belt
Yeah, you know life is a movie, you niggas playing yourself
Damn, That’s some sick shit
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I want Arabian wealth
You snakes come make me a belt
It’s every man for themselves
It’s every baby for sale
And you know life is a movie, you niggas writing yourself
I just hope it’s a pawn to watch you pussy’s play with yourselves
That’s some sick shit

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