Lyrics No Melody - DC The Don

What?
Ayy, this is a Trademark product

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 Ellen piece

Wait, bitch!
Hold up, Red dot-eem (pew-pew)
Huh, head shotty (boom!)
Pop out Red Bottoms, uh
Whole gang silent, ayy
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 the cut 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 my 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
Never lost in this bitch
New Patek, no bust in this bitch
My bitch, 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, it′s easy
Ask Dr. 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, leak it, 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 Ellen 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 though, I got immune to propane
Pocket's fatter though, 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)
Better come at me, problem (bitch)
In the hills eatin′ steak with the lobster (what?)
And he said to send a nigga to the doctor

Dumbass nigga
Bye!
Bitch!
He out of there, stupid
Tough, what
Dummy
Dumb boy, stupid, yeah you, lil′ nigga, lil' nigga, lil′ nigga