Complete Lyrics for Drake’s New Diss Track ‘Family Matters’
The beef between Drake and Kendrick Lamar went from zero to 100 real quick today. After K-Dot unleashed “6:16 in LA” early Friday morning, Drizzy had a rap retort ready in the form of “Family Matters,” a wildly offensive diss track that insults Kendrick at every turn.
The lyrical jabs Drake took on Friday night (May 3) were expected since he’s been taunting Kenny to finally respond ever since he came for The Boy and J. Cole on “Like That” in March. Boi-1da, Tay Keith, Mark Ronson, Fierce and Kevin Mitchell produce the thumping energy of the Toronto MC’s “Family Matters,” which features three different beat switches throughout its 7:36-runtime.
He attacks with brutal force from the jump, firing back at Kendrick’s claims that Drake’s got a mole in OVO and calling the West Coast MC a fake activist. The Boy bodies K-Dot with offensive lines directed at his fiancée Whitney Alford, which include everything from abuse allegations to cheating with pgLang partner Dave Free. Drake is playing dirty. Nothing is off limits in this battle.
There are also darts for Rick Ross, The Weeknd, A$AP Rocky and Future on the track. Everybody’s getting lit up here.
Here are the complete lyrics to Drake’s “Family Matters” diss aimed at Kendrick Lamar.
Complete Lyrics to Drake’s “Family Matters” Diss Directed at Kendrick Lamar
Women’s Voice
Maybe in this song you shouldn’t start by saying…
Verse 1
Drake
N***a I said it, I know that you mad
I’ve emptied the clip over friendlier jabs
You mentioned my seed now deal with his dad
I gotta go bad, I gotta go bad
Mmm, mmm, yeah
Drop, drop, drop, drop
Drop a 50 bag for the mob in the spot
Drop a 50 bag, 29 for the thot
Uh, I was really, really tryna keep it PG
I was really, really tryna keep it PG
If you had a set then get your ass a DP
Two civilian getting real like you PC
You know who really bang a set, my n***a YG
You know who really bang a set, my n***a Chuck T
You know who even bang out a set out there is CB
N***a Cole losing sleep on this, it ain’t me
You better have some paperwork or that s**t is fake tea
Can’t be rapping ’bout no ratting that we can’t read
I mean it’s true, a n***a slimеd me for my AP
Just like how Metro slimеd a n***a for his main squeeze
Out here begging for attention, n***a say, “Please”
Always rapping like you ’bout to get the slaves free
You just acting like a activist, it’s make believe
But you won’t even go into your hood and plant money trees
You say you hate the girls I f**k, but what ya really mean?
I been with Black and White and everything that’s in between
You the Black Massiah wifing up a mixed queen
And hit Vanilla Cream to help out with your self-esteem
On some Bobby s**t, I wanna know what Whitney need
All that puppy love was over in your late teens
Why you never hold your son and tell him, “Say cheese?”
We coulda left the kids outta this, don’t blame me
You a dog and you know it, you just play sweet
Your baby mama captions always screamin, “Save me”
You did her dirty all her life, you tryna make peace
I heard that one of them little kids might be Dave Freeeeeeeeee’s
Don’t make it Dave Free’s
’Cause if your GM is your BM secret BD
Then this is all making plenty f**kin’ sense to me
Aye, let that shorty breathe
Shake that a*s, b***h
Hands on your knees, hands on your knees
Hands on your knees
Shake that a*s for Drake, now shake that a*s for free
Yeah, yeah
Well not that kind of free, I’m talkin’ ’bout my n***a Dave
Your man a little K, we call that s**t a mini Drac’
He always said I overlooked him, I was staring straight
These bars go over Kenny head, no matter what I say
I know you like to keep it short, so let me paraphrase
Knew it was smoke when Abel hit us with the serenade
N***a said, “Uh, uh”
Almost started reaching for my waist
Drop, drop, drop, drop
Drop a 50 bag for the mob in the spot
Drop a 50 bag, 29 for the thot
Uh, I was really, really tryna keep it PG
Verse 2
Drake
Yeah
Yeah, let me stop playing around, take this s**t serious
You ni**as is a joke, I’ll take you serious though
Look, if Drake shooters doing TikToks, ni**a
Realest shooters in your gang that’s P’s brother, y’all ain’t getting s**t shot
Ni**a, can’t listen to the stick talk in falsetto save it for a hip-hop ni**a
Y’all don’t ever be at home, dawg you a souvenir out the gift shop
Still mad about that one ho we ain’t even f**k, I just lip locked with her
I get active when it’s wartime, I ain’t even really let my dick drop, ni**a
What the f**k? I heard Rick drop, ni**a
Talking something ’bout a nose job, ni**a
Ozempic got a side effect of jealousy and doctors never to y’all, ni**as
Put a ni**a in the bars, let a ni**a rot kinda like ya job, ni**a
House sitting on some land, but it’s out where no one even really know y’all ni**as
Bit****s gotta drive two hours for you to pay ’em just to give a blow job, ni**a
Must have snorted up a snowball
’Cause my last record deal was 400M’s, these days that’s a low ball ni**a
Ayy
Who’s next on the list?
Which one of my so-called ni**as?
Which one of my so-called ni**as?
Which one of my so-called ni**as need a shell from the clip?
Always knew I had to smoke y’all ni**as
good kid, m.A.A.d city van
We’ll pop the latch and let the doors slide
Tears running down my cheek laughing at you pussies dying it’s a war cry
Weeknd music getting played in the spots where boys got a little more pride
That’s why all your friends dipping to Atlanta paying to just find a tour guide
Abel run your f**king bread need to buy some more chains for some more guys
Lemme find another street ni**a I can take to the game, courtside
Let me get a used Ferrari for a rapper, take the ni**a on a horse ride
Anything to take the spotlight off the fact the boss is a drugged-out little punk sissy from the Northside
Rakim talking s**t again
Gassed ’cause you hit my BM first
Ni**a do the math, who I was hitting them
I ain’t even know you rap still ’cause they only talking ’bout your fit again
Probably gotta a kid again before you think of dropping any s**t again
Even when you do drop they gon’ say you should model ’cause it’s mid again
Smoking Fenty ’bout they shoulda put ya on the first one you tryna get it in
Ask Fring if this a good idea next time you cuddled in the bed again
She’ll even tell ya, Leave the boy alone before ya get your head split again
Pluto s**t make me sick to my stomach, we ain’t never really been through it
Leland Wayne, he a f**king lame, so I know he had to be a f**king influence
These ni**as had a plan and they finally found a way to rope their way into it
Two separate albums dissing I just did a Kim to it ni**a skim through it
Me and Savage had the hoes dripping wet at the shows almost had to swim to it
K-Dot s**t is only hitting hard when Baby Keem put his pen to it
Ross calling me the White boy and the s**t kind of got a ring to it
’Cause all these rappers waiving white flags while the whole f**king club sing to it
Murder scene on your man tonight, then come to the vigil with the candlelight
Body after f**king body and you know Rick reading my Miranda Rights
I’m going on vacation now, hope next time, y’all planned it right
’Cause you gotta pay for saying my name, guess now ni**as understand the price
Ni**a, what? (6ix)
Verse 3
Drake
Kendrick just opened his mouth
Someone go hand him a Grammy right now
Where is your uncle at?
’Cause I wanna talk to the man of the house
West Coast ni**as to fades right
Come get this ass whoppin’, I’m handing them out
Ya wanna take up for Pharrell
The come get his legacy out of my house
A cease-and-desist is for hoes
Can’t listen to lies that come out of your mouth
You called the Tupac estate
And begged them to sue me and get that s**t down
I’m losing perspective on beef
Boi 1da send beat and I’ll kill ya for fun
Your daddy got robbed by Top
You Stunna and Wayne, like father like son
Anthony set up the plays
Kojo be charging you double or none
They shook about what I’m going to say
But texting your phone like we already won
You tell me what I shouldn’t say
But f**k it my ni**a it’s already done
We already know it’s a 20 v 1
We already know why you went No. 1
It’s clearly because of the boy
The honorable thing is to give me the loot
You right about f**k The Big 3, it’s only Big D and there’s video proof
Our sons should go play at the park
Two light-skinned kids the s**t would be cute
Unless you don’t want to be seen with anyone that isn’t Blacker than you
We get it, we got it
The Blacker the berry the sweeter the juice
We get it you like to put gin in your juice
We get it you think that you Bishop in Juice
When you put your hands on your girl
Is it self-defense ’cause she’s bigger than you?
Your back is up against the curb
You digging for dirt should be digging for proof
Why did you move to New York?
Is it ’cause you living that bachelor life?
Proposed in 2015
But don’t want to make her your actual wife
I’m guessing this wedding ain’t happening, right?
’Cause we know the girls that you actually like
Your darkest secrets are coming to light
It’s all on your face like what happen to Mike
Oh s**t, it’s all making sense, maybe I’m Prince and you actually Mike
Michael was praying his features would change so people believe that he’s actually White
Top would make you do a features for change, get on pop records and rap for the Whites
And wait, you say your brother Jermaine but you wanted him to stay out the light
Oh s**t, just follow me right
’Cause nothing you saying could bother me right
I get off the plane
And nothing has changed
I head to Delilah with all of my ice
Head to Delilah with all of my ice
Head to Delilah with all of my ice
This s**t gotta be over by now for anyone out here that’s calling right
Ya dead
Ya dead
Ya dead
There’s nowhere to hide, there’s nowhere to hide
You know what I mean
You know what I mean
They hired a crisis management team to clean up the fact that you beat on your queen
The picture you painted ain’t what it seems
Ya dead