DC The Don - Makaveli** lyrics

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DC The Don - Makaveli** lyrics

Lyrics from Snippets [Intro] Let's go Mario Yeah, yeah, yeah ni**as piped up in this b*tch right now (What?) Gang, gang, gang [Chorus] And, it's too many opps in this party Lil' b*tch, Makaveli my sh*t, brodie talk he get hit up (What? What?) Walking with a stick like a blind man [?] Smoking on exotic make him—huh, make him hiccup Snakes in the grass I'm a lion, better keep up Why I'm going fast, that b*tch getting lapped up Say you got some dough [?] Acting like a ho, got his motherfu*king b*tch fu*ked [Post-Chorus] Big frames on me (What?) Big Range Rover (What?) My sh*t, 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 sh*t, you a motherfu*king [?] She know I'm a dog, I'm a motherfu*king Dober Woke up to the smoke 'cause I hate being sober [Refrain] Blue devil sh*t, I'm up in Houston, I ball with the Rockets Your b*tch on my jimmy, I told her to stop it No b*tch, 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 sh*t looking garbage Young ni**as too rich from the streets, we ain't mobbin' Come to Milwaukee, them ni**as still robbing (Yeah, gang, gang) [Verse] Big-ass chop put a whole through his dome (What?) I'm on ching ching chong with this lil'-ass blunt Finesse the pack put the whole team on Finessed the dough where the b*tch can't go I ain't tryna talk to a minute-maid ho Got Balenciaga shoes and designer my clothes Give her twenty backshots, I'll finesse your ho I'm a hip-hopper rapper, my [?] Energy turbo, my tool 'bout to spit fire And your sh*t, know you big liar Said you got [?] but this don't get my hype And I'm Michael, call me Myers Got 32's on that b*tch, that's a big tire Skrrt through your block, leave it once [?] Internet gangster, I never could [?] Came in this b*tch with a MAC-10 I ain't tryna talk, what the fu*k is a backend (What?) Red pockets, ni**as finna cash in Make him hee hee in this b*tch, Michael Jackson (Yeah) Glock with a beam, get packed in Cut [?] Milwaulkee assassin My ex be callin', callin', see me ballin', ballin' Hit the club and get to laughin' Hit my dougie, get to rapping This the fu*kin' second season They know DC finna spaz Neck, wrist, ears froze, ni**as still freezing They keep asking do I drop, I ain't finna drop, b*tch, I'm finna blow You can run up if you want, we ain't finna run, b*tch, it's gonna float Stepping on the gas, foenem off the ash- [Refrain] Blue devil sh*t, I'm up in Houston, I ball with the Rockets Your b*tch on my jimmy, I told her to stop it No b*tch, 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 sh*t looking garbage Young ni**as too rich from the streets, we ain't mobbin' Come to Milwaukee, them ni**as still robbing [Pre-Chorus] Big frames on me (What?) Big Range Rover (What?) My sh*t, own it (Skrrt) He's a poser Please hit me up when it's over Fake ass cloner That ain't your sh*t, you a motherfu*king [?] She know I'm a dog, I'm a motherfu*king Dober [Chorus] And, it's too many opps in this party Lil' b*tch, Makaveli my sh*t, brodie talk he get hit up (What? What?) Walking with a stick like a blind man [?] Smoking on exotic make him—huh, make him hiccup Snakes in the grass I'm a lion, better keep up Why I'm going fast, that b*tch getting lapped up Say you got some dough [?] Acting like a ho, got his motherfu*king b*tch fu*ked

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