Lyrics DC The Don – Stop Posin For Ig

Posing for the gram
He yelling nigga tag me
Posing for the

Huh

Why you Posing for the gram
(What you talking bout nigga)
These Niggas be hatin
But really #1 fans

Hol up bruh is this your mans?
I need my chicken in advance
I’m talkin 5-6 million
Sky scrape buildings
40 achor land

Gotta find my own way
Find a place where I can lay
I been tryna make it happen
Saw the shit Change with Everything 1k
Mil town Mil town
414 born and I was raised
H town h town
Sauce Wak Travis Scott
Vibe waves
37 night and days
Arron Rodgers Bay plays
Trapping hallway maze
Got my city so amazed
Like how that tall lanky nigga with the big teeth
Finally make a way

Brought the lambo to the hood feeling brave
Ion want her if lil mama ain’t paid
Ion want her if she ain’t got it maid
I might take her if she bad and she slayed
Feel my presence
All you niggas behave
Or open presents
With the 41 k
I’m breaking records
In the game like 2k
I’m just infectious
Tell yo man grab the raid
This Not a concert
On the gang issa rave
I’m tryna surf right on the crowd
Like a wave
I’m taking orders
Take yo mans to the grave
I line em up
I give lil Brodie a shave
Or give em swaggy
If he catchin a fade
My baby trippin
Cause she know she got played
I’m sorry baby but a player
Gone play
It’s DNA
I Got this shit in my veins

Like ooo
Ooo
Fresh out da bed
Fuck a lil vest cause I’m comin for heads

Fuck ya lil crumbs tell yo mans get sum bread
Gotta bad bitch left her message on read

Ooo
Ooo
Come here lil boo
Zooted tonight but I’m leaving with you

Bad bitch so lavish I’m fucking her too
Date In the wrait let my stars be the view
X2

These niggas be hating
I’m Hollywood chasing
I’m leaving the hood
But the hood follow me

You talking that smack
You gone end up on smack
Like a backwood
I blow you lil niggas like trees

I’m fresh out the gutta
My money turn butter
I stripped yo lil bitch
She get down on her knees

She wasn’t on me
When I wore the beanie
Now I’m eating these tracks
Turn my beanie to cheese

Fresh off the east
Where my lil niggas eat
I’m in field
You can probably catch me in sum cleats

I’m stacking my money so high
I just look to the sky
And thank God
For the birds and the bees

I wasn’t on shit
Like 3 months and a week
Now I’m selling out venues
Man this shit is a breeze

I count hella bengies
My pockets was empty
No wonder these nigga
Don’t represent me

DON