DRAKE First Person Shooter Lyrics | drake new song

Canadian rapper Drake has song "First Person Shooter" features American rapper J. Cole. For All the Dogs was Drake's eighth studio album, and it was released as the fourth single from the album on November 15, 2023. 

With Snorre Tidemand, Drake and Cole wrote the song with producers Boi-1da, Vinylz, Tay Keith, FnZ (Michael Mulé and Isaac De Boni), Oz, and Coleman.

As he begins the verse, Cole makes a metaphorical comparison between Drake's and his dominance in the rap game and first-person shooters. 

As a result of their skill, he claims that they are capable of turning other artists' songs into a "funeral," the implication being that they have an advantage over their competitors. 

Aside from referencing the discussions and debates surrounding his talent, J. Cole goes on to claim that he is number one.

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In Drake's verse, he boasts about his success and the impact he and J. Cole have in the music industry. By demonstrating how his skills exceed those of his rivals, he dismisses those who provide him with subpar verses.

Also, Drake suggests who the audience is rooting for and asserts his own greatness in the context of being considered the greatest of all time (G.O.A.T. ).

DRAKE first Person Shooter Lyrics | drake new song

Drake First Person Shooter Lyrics

(Pew, pew-pew)

First person shooter mode, 

we turnin' your song to a funeral

To them niggas that say they wan' off us, 

you better be talkin' 'bout workin' in cubicles

Yeah, them boys had it locked, 

but I knew the code

Lot of niggas debatin' my numeral

Not the three, not the two, I'm the U-N-O


Numero U-N-O

Me and Drizzy, this shit like the Super Bowl

Man, this shit damn near big as the—

Big as the what? Big as the what? 

Big as the what?

Big as the Super Bowl

But the difference is it's just 

two guys playin' shit that 

they did in the studio

Niggas usually send they verses 

back to me and they be terrible, 

just like a two-year old

I love a dinner with some fine women

When they start debatin' about who the GOAT

I'm like: Go 'head, say it then, who the GOAT?

Who the GOAT? Who the GOAT? Who the GOAT?

Who you bitches really rootin' for?

Like a kid that act bad from

January to November, nigga, 

it's just you and Cole

Big as the what? Big as the what? 

Big as the what? (Ayy)

Big as the Super Bowl

Niggas so thirsty to put me in beef

Dissectin' my words and start lookin' too deep

I look at the tweets and start suckin' my teeth

I'm lettin' it rock 'cause I love the mystique

I still wanna get me a song with YB

Can't trust everything that you saw on IG

Just know if I diss you, I'd make 

sure you know that I hit you 

like I'm on your caller ID

I'm namin' the album The Fall Off, 

it's pretty ironic 'cause 

it ain't no fall off for me

Still in this bitch gettin' bigger, 

they waitin' on the kid to come 

drop like a father to be

Love when they argue the hardest MC

Is it K-Dot? Is it Aubrey? Or me?

We the big three like we started a league, 

but right now, I feel like Muhammed Ali

Huh, yeah, yeah, huh-huh, 

yeah, Muhammed Ali

The one that they call when they 

shit ain't connectin' no more, 

feel like I got a job in IT

Rhymin' with me is the biggest mistake

The Spider-Man meme is me lookin' at Drake

It's like we recruited your homies 

to beat demon deacons, 

we got 'em attending a wake

Hate how the gang gotta wait for 

the boss, man, this shit like a prison escape

Everybody steppers, well fuck it, 

then everybody breakfast and 

I'm 'bout to clear up my plate (Huh, huh, huh)

When I show up, it's motion 

picture blockbuster

The GOAT with the golden pin, the top toucher

The spot rusher, sprayed his 

whole shit up, the crop duster

Not Russia, but apply pressure

To your cranium, Cole's automatic 

when aimin' 'em

With The Boy in the status, a stadium


Ayy, I'm 'bout to, I'm bout to

I'm 'bout to, yeah


I'm 'bout to click out on this shit

I'm 'bout to click, woah

I'm 'bout to click out on this shit

I'm 'bout to click, woah

I'm down to click down you 

hoes and make a crime scene

I click the trigger on the 

stick like a high beam

Man, I was Bentley wheel whippin' 

when I was nineteen

She call my number, leave her 

hangin', she got dry-cleaned

She got a Android, her 

messages is lime green

I search one name, and 

end up seein' twenty tings

Nadine, Christine, Justine, 

Kathleen, Charlene, Pauline, Claudine

Man, I pack 'em in this 

phone like some sardines

And they send me naked pictures, 

it's the small things

You niggas is still takin' 

pictures on a dog stream

My youngers richer than you 

rappers and they all stream

I really hate that you been sellin' 

them some false dreams

Man, if your pub was up for sale, 

I buy the whole thing

Will they ever give me flowers? 

Well, of course not

They don't wanna have that talk, 

'cause it's a sore spot

They know The Boy the 

one they gotta boycott

I told Jim and Jammer 

I use a GRAMMY as a door stop

Girl gave me some 

head because I need it

And if I fuck with you, 

then after I might eat it, wait

Niggas talkin' 'bout when 

this gon' be repeated

What the fuck bro? 

I'm one away from Michael

Nigga, beat it, nigga, beat it, what?

Beat it, what? Beat it, what? 

Beat it, what? Beat it, what?

Beat it, what? Beat it, what? 

Beat it, what? Beat it, what?

Beat it, what? Beat it, what? 

Beat it, what? Beat it, what?

Don't even pay me back on 

none them favors, I don't need it

DRAKE First Person Shooter Lyrics | Drake new song

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