DC The Don - MAKAVELI lyrics

Let's go Mario
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Niggas piped up in this bitch right now
(What?)
Gang, gang, gang

And it's too many opps in this party
Lil' bitch, Makaveli my shit, brodie talk
He get hit up
(What? What?)
Walking with a stick like a blind man
Pick up
Smoking on exotic make him- huh
Make him hiccup
Snakes in the grass, I'm a lion
Better keep up
Why the long face? Make a bitch nigga lift up
Shawty got a dome with some lil' ass B cups
Acting like a ho
Got his motherfucking bitch fucked
Big frames on me (What?)
Big Range Rover (What?)
My shit, own it (Skrrt)
He's a poser (Yeah, yeah)
Please hit me up when it's over (What?)
Fake ass cloner
That ain't your shit
You a motherfucking soldier
She know I'm a dog
I'm a motherfucking Dober
Woke up to the smoke 'cause
I hate being sober
(Pussy)

Blue devil shit, I'm up in Houston
I ball with the Rockets
Your bitch on my jimmy, I told her to stop it
No bitch, I ain't John
I got hoes in the tropics
Not a civilian, I roll like I'm Gotti
You slide through my crib
But this shit looking garbage
Young niggas too rich from the streets
We ain't mobbin'
Come to Milwaukee, them niggas still robbing
(Yeah, gang, gang)
With a whole lot of- whole lot
Of birds in my phone
I just went cray in Prada
I'm back in my zone
Finesse the pack, put the whole team on
Finessed the doug, where the bitch can't go
I ain't tryna talk to a minute-maid ho
Got Balenciaga shoes, Alexander Wang clothes
Give her twenty backshots
I'll finesse your ho
(Pussy)
I'm a hip-hopper rapper, my C hot
Energy turbo, my tool 'bout to spit fire
And your shit, know you big liar
Said you got gas, but this
Don't get me high
Yeah
And I'm Michael, call me Myers
Got 32's on that bitch
That's some big tires
Skrrt through your block
Leaving marks on the street fiber
Internet gangster, I never could be cyber
Came in this bitch with a MAC-10
I ain't tryna talk
Where the fuck the backend?
(What?)
Run your pockets, niggas finna cash in
Make him hee-hee in this bitch
Michael Jackson
(Yeah)
Glock with a beam, get packed in
Cutter to my left, this Milwaulkee assassin
My ex be callin', callin'
See me ballin', ballin'
Hit decline and get to laughin'
Hit my dougie, get to rapping
This the fuckin' second season
They know DC finna spaz
Neck, wrist, ears froze
Niggas still freezing
They keep asking if I dropped
I ain't finna drop, bitch
I'm finna blow
You can run up if you want
You ain't finna run, bitch
You finna float
Stepping on the gas, foe'nem off the Act'
You can get yo' ass blowed
Walkin' in the pad
Who that in the back? ØUTLAW
Got him by the throat
Think I give a fuck 'bout these niggas?
He's just another nigga in my scope
Lil' bitch, I can't go, and it's too big
Bankroll

And it's too many opps in this party
Lil' bitch, Makaveli my shit, brodie talk
He get hit up
(What? What?)
Walking with a stick like a blind man
Pick up
Smoking on exotic make him- huh
Make him hiccup
Snakes in the grass, I'm a lion
Better keep up
Why the long face? Make a bitch nigga lift up
Shawty got a dome with some lil' ass B cups
Acting like a ho
Got his motherfucking bitch fucked
Big frames on me (What?)
Big Range Rover (What?)
My shit, own it (Skrrt)
He's a poser (Yeah, yeah)
Please hit me up when it's over (What?)
Fake ass cloner
That ain't your shit
You a motherfucking soldier
She know I'm a dog
I'm a motherfucking Dober

Yeah
Yeah, yeah