21 Savage & Drake – MR RECOUP Lyrics

21 Savage & Drake – MR RECOUP Lyrics
MR RECOUP
21 Savage & Drake
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    MR RECOUP Album Art
    "MR RECOUP." - 21 Savage & Drake

    Album: WHAT HAPPENED TO THE STREETS?
    Track No: 06
    Yeah
    Yeah, yeah, yeah
    Yeah
    Just bought a pair of new gym fuckin' socks
    Chubb's Tyler Perry, he make plays for the block
    Wasn't even 'bout to rap on this, but it knocks
    When you tryna go? 'Cause it's smoke at the top
    Spade at the party, throw them bitches in the truck
    We was just on Yonge Street, they was eatin' it up
    My life ain't a movie, bitch, it's just us
    They can't find the shooter, bitch, 'cause it's us
    Us, us, it was us
    **** shot my brother, now I don't know who to trust
    My opps be so broke that we've been shootin' at the bus
    Bro say, "Play it patient," nah, dog, I'm in a rush
    I'm tryna buck
    Aye, I'm tryna shoot, he tryna clutch, aye
    I'm tryna add him to the list like a deluxe, aye
    I'm tryna watch the windshield fall from off his truck, aye
    I'm tryna smack his twin, show him it wasn't luck, pussy
    Damn, Alex Moss, that's a really big chain
    Really it's no wonder why my neck is in pain
    Damn, Iceman, your initials just changed
    Mr. Recoup, that's my other nickname
    Spade at the party, long wheel, bass range
    Chances are I'll probably never see these hoes again
    No Face B, that's my motherfuckin' hitter
    Drake is your daddy and he couldn't find a sitter
    Every single year, what I'm grossin', it get bigger
    If I really pop it, I'll have some **** triggered (My bad)
    I ain't no real rapper, I'm a fucking gravedigger (Pussy)
    He don't like me 'cause my **** killed one of his **** (Bitch)
    Pitch-black paint, but the seats, they vanilla (Go)
    I converse with CEOs, you talk on the pillow (Go)
    Watch me do the trainin' then smack your main hitter (21)
    I got fifty-somethin' old schools like my name Spitta (21)
    All these **** cap, they exaggerating hats (Pussy)
    Go against the mob, you be layin' on your back
    I don't speculate, if I speak, then it's the facts (Facts)
    We the type of **** cut the tails off the rats (Bitch)
    Us, us, it was us
    **** shot my brother, now I don't know who to trust
    My opps be so broke that we been shootin' at the bus
    Bro say, "Play it patient," nah, dog, I'm in a rush
    I'm tryna buck

    Writer(s): Shéyaa Bin Abraham-Joseph, Aubrey Drake Graham, Lyle Winklerprins, Noel Cadastre, Shemar Anthony Pierre, Daniel Dodd, Alberto Cisneros & Emil Amos Snizek.

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