Lyrics DC The Don – No Melody

What?
Ayy, this is a Trademark produc…
Uh, uh, uh, uh, wait
Trademark!

I’m finna cut that boy up like vasectomy
Fuck all that talking, lil’ bitch bring that neck to me
Krusty Krab shit, bitch I still got the recipe
Bitch I feel like Mrs. Puff they ain’t testin’ me
I told Trademark cook a beat with no melody
Stay with that heat- are you stupid Penelope?
I’m on the road, what the fuck is they telling me?
Strapped like a dyke, bitch I came with that L-A Piece

Wait, bitch!
Hold up, Red dot-eem (Pew-Pew)
Huh, headshot-eem (Boom!)
Pop out Red Bottoms, uh
Whole gang silent, aye
Seen him in the beam got him (Bow!)
This 40 gon’ run in his wallet, ayy
Said he pulling up, highly doubt it
Pop out that gut with that whatchamacallit
Air out this bitch like I’m CJ McCollum
No bitch, I don’t trip I’m allergic to falling
Shoutout to mo city, I keep me a rocket
If he talking loud we gon’ get outta pocket
These rap niggas suck, all they moves I’ma mock it, uh
If you speak the tour nigga stop it, uh
Take it to the grave then lock it, uh
Cook a nigga up, Hot Pocket

Wait, walk in this bitch, they gon’ walk on my dick

I know she freaky, she wanna get dinky
I tell her get lost in this bitch
I’m in that Tesla, you know that I’m extra
We finna lift off in this bitch

Wait, walk in this bitch, they gon’ walk on my dick
Never lost in this bitch
New Patek, no bust in this bitch

Did it 3 times like the Hangover
Popped a molly, she said she ain’t staying sober
It ain’t over til big DC say its over
Grab her heart and crash it with my Range Rover
Girl it ain’t hard to be ruthless its easy
Ask that to Dre and Ice Cube, they believe me
Ice with Dasani we over to Fiji
Are they talking to me or are my eyes just deceiving?
I don’t know if I’m able, I feel like The Weeknd
Pop up out the bushes, creepin’
Put him on the gram, leakin’, uh
In the full minivan, geekin’

I’m finna cut that boy up like vasectomy
Fuck all that talking, lil’ bitch bring that neck to me
Krusty Krab shit, bitch I still got the recipe
Bitch I feel like Mrs. Puff they ain’t testin’ me
I told Trademark cook a beat with no melody
Stay with that heat- are you stupid Penelope?
I’m on the road, what the fuck is they telling me?
Strapped like a dyke, bitch I came with that L-A Piece

Strapped with that 9, bitch I’m goin’ insane
I’m gon’ cock that bitch back and put two in his brain
You still think that you good just because of your name?
Come to Milwaukee, we taking his chain
Bitch I’m on my Levar, told him stay in his lane
Get him outta this bitch, he ain’t really with gang
You weren’t with the kid when I was broke where it hang
There’s a difference between organic niggas and lames
Goin’ dragon mode, nose blowin out hella flames
It don’t matter tho, I got immune to propane
Pockets fatter tho, finna go ’09 Lil Wayne (On my momma!)
Like a lion this shit can’t be tamed (Fact!)
Finna make DC F. Baby my name
Goin’ Stunna, no Baby, I buy out the plane
You still wanna be here but this shit ain’t the same
Fuck this industry shit I want money no fame, bitch (Pussy ass)

Yeah, yeah, ayy (Let’s go)
Betta come at me proper (Bitch)
In the hills eatin’ steak with the lobster (What?)
Ain’t shit to send a nigga to the doctor (Haha)

Dumbass nigga
(Bye!)
Bitch!
(Stay out of there, stupid)
Tough, what
(Dummy)
(Dumb boy, stupid, yeah you, lil’ nigga, lil’ nigga)