Tuscan Leather Songtext
von Drake

Yeah
Alright
Yeah

Comin′ off the last record
I'm gettin′ 20 million off the record
Just to off these records
Nigga, that's a record

I'm livin′ like I′m out here on my last adventure
Past the present when you have to mention
This is nothin' for the radio
But they′ll still play it though
'Cause it′s that new Drizzy Drake
That's just the way it go
Heavy airplay all day with no chorus


We keep it thorough, nigga
Rap like this for all of my borough niggas
I reached the point
Where don′t shit matter to me, nigga
I reached heights that
Dwight Howard couldn't reach, nigga
Prince Akeem, they throw flowers at my feet, nigga

I could go a hour on this beat, nigga, yeah
I'm just as famous as my mentor
But that′s still the boss, don′t get sent for
Get hype on tracks
And jump in front of a bullet you wasn't meant for
′Cause you don't really wanna hear me vent more

Hot temper, scary outcome
Here′s a reason for niggas that's hatin′ without one
That always let they mouth run
Bench players talkin' like starters, I hate it

Started from the bottom
Now we here, nigga, we made it
Yeah, Tom Ford Tuscan Leather
Smelling like a brick
Degenerates, but even Ellen love our shit

Rich enough
That I don't have to tell ′em that I′m rich
Self explanatory
You just here to spread the story, wassup


Sittin' Gucci Row like they say up at UNLV
Young rebel, Young Money
Nothin′ you could tell me
Paperwork takin' too long
Maybe they don′t understand me

I'll compromise if I have to
I gotta stay with the family
Not even talkin′ to Nicki
Communication is breakin'
I dropped the ball on some personal shit

I need to embrace it
I'm honest, I make mistakes
I′d be the second to admit it
Think that′s why I need her in my life
To check me when I'm trippin′

On a mission tryna shift the culture
Tell me who dissin'
I got some things that′ll hit the culprit
Them strep throat flows
Them shits to stop all of the talkin'

All of the talkin′
Got one reply for all of your comments
Fuck what you think
I'm too busy, that's why you leave a message
Born a perfectionist
Guess that makes me a bit obsessive
That shit I heard from you lately
Really relieved some pressure

Like aye, B, I got your CD
You get an E for effort
I piece letters together
And get to talkin′ reckless
Owl chains like credentials
You know you see the necklace
My life′s a completed checklist

I'm tired of hearin′
'Bout who you checkin′ for now
Just give it time
We'll see who′s still around a decade from now
That's real

How much time is this nigga spendin' on the intro?
Lately I′ve been feelin′ like Guy Pearce in Memento
I just set the bar
Niggas fall under it like a limbo
The family all that matters
I'm just out here with my kinfolk

Off everything my pen wrote
We went from Bundy to Winslow
This for shorty up on Glengrove
Who love when I catch my tempo
I sip the Pora and listen to Cappadonna
The Fresh Prince just had dinner with Tatyana, no lie

All these 90′s fantasies on my mind
The difference is that with mine
They all come true in due time
I might come through without security
To check if you're fine

That′s just me on my solo like fuck it, like YOLO
Wanted to tell you, "Accept yourself"
You don't have to prove shit to no one except yourself
And if you end up needin′ some extra help
Then I could help
You know, back on your feet and shit
Tryna get my karma up
Fuck the guilty and greedy shit

How much time is this nigga spendin' on the intro?
How this nigga workin' like
He got a fuckin′ twin though?
Life is soundin′ crazy, 40 on Martin Scorcese
And I wouldn't change a thing if you paid me
Now real nigga, wassup?
Hey, yeah, hey

How much time is this nigga spendin′ on the intro?
If there's hell below
I′ll see you when you get there
Are you enjoying yourselves?
If we may we would just like to close off with something
A bit inspirational
Hopefully, or something a bit relevant
As to us all are having the same fears
Shedding similar tears
And of course dying in so many years
It don't mean that we can′t have a good life
So we'd like to just maybe close out with something
For food for thought