Drake and 21 Savage – Major Distribution Lyrics

Drake and 21 Savage – Major Distribution Lyrics

Intro
No, no, no, no, no, no
No, no, no, no, no
Major distribution, man, my label on my dick, for real
Fucking with your friend and she ain’t tell you, y’all ain’t shit, for real
I’ve been out here crushing 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
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
Lying to me all night
Buying Benz Benzes out of spite
Paid a hundred, ran up something 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 singing, bitch, you shopping

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
Nigga tried to play this shit light, play it cool, play me like I’m sweet
Fucking on an opp nigga bitch, say she miss the golds in my teeth
4L shit, know we stepping, y’all should get to funeral preparing
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 doing dances, wigging 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, everything except for call the cops
Savage still let his gun pop, FOX 5 gang, get you knocked
Major distribution, labels calling, 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
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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