![Drake – 9AM In Dallas](/i/img/songs/256/2932.webp)
Drake 9AM In Dallas
These are my 1 St. Thomas flows, me, my niggas, and some Madonna ho's That look just like virgins but trust they down to go, yeah Discussin' life and all our common goals Smart kids that smoke weed, honor roll Look how the champagne diamonds flow Fine dining, pour another glass when the wine is low I'm in the crib stackin' money from here to the ceilin' Whatever it is I got is clearly appealin' These other rappers gettin' that inferior feelin' I hope you feel it in your soul, spiritual healin' Take a look at yourself the mirror's revealin' If you ain't got it you ain't got it, the theory is brilliant People ask how music is goin', I heard it pays I just came off makin' two million in thirty days Damn, I guess it does is what the message was Sometimes I feel I be spendin' my money just because But Weezy I'm just out here reppin' us 'Til I get to shake the hand of the man that's blessing us Yeah, I know these niggas miss the mean lyrics Kush got the room smellin' like teen spirit I asked kindly if no one out here would bring their feet up Until I lose, for now I'm the game's single leader I fly private so no one tells me to bring my seat up And book a suite where me and your favorite singer meet up Who you like, tell me who it is I'mma make sure that that woman is the next one on my list I should call it a night, but fuck it, I can't resist This one is for all the niggas from my city tryin' to diss Without a response from me you really fail to exist And I love to see you fail that feelin' there is the shit I swear, ah, pussy nigga get your bread up Enjoy the seat that the stewardess just forced yo' ass to let up Why yo' scary ass lookin' down? Pick ya head up No one told you your disguise is the most ridiculous get-up With nose plugs in now, I can smell a setup So you're just wastin' your time, you only makin' me better Yeah, I try to tell 'em don't judge me because you heard stuff Chasin' cash, that's my brother from the surf club Damn, that nigga always kept it so hood Back when we would smoke good at the Oakwoods And have girls fall through like coins in a couch Now we just fuckin' all the bitches they warned us about Scared for the first time everything just clicked What if I don't really do the numbers they predict? Considerin' the fact that I'm the one that they just picked To write a chapter in history, this shit has got me sick But if I really do it don't expect to get a split 'Cause this truly is some shit I don't expect for you all to get I'm nervous but I'mma kill it 'cause they about to let the realest team in Throwin' up in the huddle nigga, Willie Beamen But still throwin' touchdown passes In tortoise frame glasses hopin' that someone catch it People say that old Drake, we started to miss it But they need to be a little more specific Man is this what y'all want? In my best Chris Tucker impression Duckin' your questions, fuck your suggestions Money gets all of my love and affection Cars, all black like the cover of Essence I'm allergic to comin' in second, but I never sneeze, Y.M.O.E. nigga, yeah Uh, uh, yeah, that's what y'all want? October's Very Own, Young Money, ATF Thank Me Later in this bitch, what's up? Free Weezy in this bitch, what's up? June 15th in this bitch what's up? Noel, that's it
According to Drake, he really wanted this song – which he wrote at 9 a.m. in Dallas, TX – as the intro to Thank Me Later, but it was recorded on the day that the rest of the album was being mastered. The song ultimately could not make the cut for the US version but was featured as a bonus track on the UK cut.