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money machine - dc the don lyrics

[intro]
yeah, yeah
what ? worldwide
brr*brr

[pre*chorus]
ayy, whip it up, money machine, with a black bandana
whip it up, i’m the new jet lee, shawty better watch your cameras (yah)
louis v, with a glock on me, i can’t even keep my pants up (what)
really out when this sh*t get hot and these lil n*ggas adam sandler (yah)
cartier all up on my lens, i can’t see the fakes
anarchy on the side of my hip, bruh, we can’t play it safe (brr*brr)
that’s a jab, it’s gon knock him, rearrange his face
that’s a thot it’s gon blow em, aim and he’s dead

[chorus]
shawty wait, i can’t fake the feeling right now (yah, yah)
it’s too many waves in this b*tch right now
she gon pop a perc, got her spinnin’ right now
[?] got the sticks, he at thе heaven gates now

[verse 1]
hеllo dc, with a brand new patek
know what i’m sayin’, i got rich n*gga habits
i’m tryna [?] this b*tch speakin’ spanish i hop in that casper i’m makin her vanish (skrrt)
øutlaw bringin’ that damage
mama be trippin’ bro, what is this madness ?
it’s time to chill out, bro, you been established, i manage my mood and you’re too on the ‘gram
leakin’, we gon’ spazz out for no reason
b*tch i’m on the east with ghouls and the demons
pah*pah, no face no case, i skrrt off in that demon (skrr*skrrt)
we gon’ f*ck up sak’s fit every season
rick owens shirt, raf simmons my jeans
is this your mans ? he ain’t on my team
where the f*ck the promoter, i need my green
wait, bro, i hit that b*tch kg, ayy big bank roll can’t fit in my jeans
got three stripe shirts got fly away wings
i ain’t f*ckin’ with him, i can’t f*ck with his team, imma take that lil b*tch [?]
got that super low [?]
big bank showin’, lil baby, i’m a heavyweight
brodie talkin’ h*lla sh*t send him to heavens gate
big facts, we gon od we bringin’ h*ll today
another rattin’ n*gga dead, bro let’s celebrate
[pre*chorus]
ayy, whip it up, money machine, with a black bandana
whip it up, i’m the new jet lee, shawty better watch your cameras (yah)
louis v, with a glock on me, i can’t even keep my pants up (what)
really out when this sh*t get hot and these lil n*ggas adam sandler (yah)
cartier all up on my lens, i can’t see the fakes
anarchy on the side of my hip, bruh, we can’t play it safe (brr*brr)
that’s a jab, it’s gon knock him, rearrange his face
that’s a thot it’s gon blow em, aim and he’s dead

[verse 2]
i can’t feel my face and i can’t feel my lungs neither
in that black range, drove her, b*tch, jeepers creepers
why the f*ck you screamin’ “hot” ? bet that n*gga catch a fever
big body like “woah”
woke up like imma f*ck a opp, b*tch
f*cking dirty cop, without yo badge you gettin’ dropped, b*tch
the sheriff said “wo wo wo” we on that got sh*t
i heard you got a stick “boo*hoo*hoo” you ain’t got pop sh*t
body, b*tch, haha, taje my body, b*tch
they played yo song, we hittin’ skip, that sh*t was potty, b*tch
yo, we gon’ run em out his shoes, ed hardy, b*tch
she said “dc you so d*mn c*cky” well that’s obvious
run a [?]
yeah, that’s easy
2018 they ain’t believe me
now i’m up in this b*tch, get bizzy
flexin’ so godd*mn hard, i know they wanna be me
but these n*ggas can’t ever go be me
i’m the youngest n*gga in yo tv please don’t @ me
[pre*chorus]
ayy, whip it up, money machine, with a black bandana
whip it up, i’m the new jet lee, shawty better watch your cameras (yah)
louis v, with a glock on me, i can’t even keep my pants up (what)
really out when this sh*t get hot and these lil n*ggas adam sandler (yah)
cartier all up on my lens, i can’t see the fakes
anarchy on the side of my hip, bruh, we can’t play it safe (brr*brr)
that’s a jab, it’s gon knock him, rearrange his face
that’s a thot it’s gon blow em, aim and he’s dead

- dc the don lyrics

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