Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Don , by - Pries. Song from the album American Fairytale, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 21.02.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Glue Crew
Song language: English
The Don |
| I’m the hottest thing since 2 strings |
| The coldest out, Disney’s Frozen got a saint |
| Women can’t let me go, I blame the feelings |
| 'Cause now that I’m on, it’s amazing what those shoulders bring |
| All the times I was crossed out |
| They shake can’t even make this nigga fall out |
| I’m rising up, I’m rising up, who brought the killer out |
| I don’t fear these niggas that still stay at they mama’s house |
| 'Cause if I lose it, then my music can bring marshal out |
| I know they want tea parties is the fucking sprout |
| I leave you wet my nigga for braille ping pow |
| I don’t pull triggers, I got niggas for the bing bow |
| I’m talking sales from hell, you hear me clear now? |
| Hump from rises you could spring and still get shot down |
| Sniper scope on my dreams nigga |
| What you playing, what you saying |
| You got priest nigga? |
| Halleluha, shit |
| And if you don’t then you a dog |
| But I ain’t playing nigga |
| 'Cause tricks are for kids, no Houdini, nigga |
| I got a girl that one night cost more than dental fellas |
| I got a sweet of her, see kisses got me stroking different |
| I’m never stuck, I’m never worried about who don’t get it |
| 'Cause the ones I got and all my problem |
| They ain’t tryina fix it |
| More like sit back and fucking let your eyes listen |
| 'Cause what you see is what you get, this ain’t television |
| More like 3D, big screen in a Bentley |
| Never ran from nothing, now these labels tryina get me |
| Like baby you should rap more, maybe you should sing less |
| Or maybe if y’all knew me, y’all would have known your shit to sign this |
| Now I’m signing split, sheez for records on yours projects |
| 'Cause when you artists fail I’m the nigga you gonn' call next |
| I’m the illest, I’m the illest, I’m fucking illest |
| I say it so damn much I got a fucking illness |
| Raise the bar, courtesy of drinking |
| I’m the hottest in my city, check my numbers if you question |
| Hold a buckle up, somebody grab the libations |
| It’s a toast for my city, even when I’m on vacation |
| 'Cause I try not be norm, except I am the smell snort |
| Y’all niggas are lug own, it’s kudo |
| No need for your kudos |
| 'Cause fuck of y’all snitch |
| I fuck with pigs, menudo |
| Hey Frank, you know I fuck with you man |
| I try to tell them |
| Fuck these motherfuckers, no respect for them |
| These draws in my hood, man my part of town ain’t know for decadence |
| New York I’m with the porties and Dominicans |
| Callie I’m with Mexicans |
| Half white and half Hispanic, but fully in this for excellence |
| Now all my girls is hela bad |
| Titties pierced with hela ass |
| I’m landing in your circle with the choppa, like a helipad |
| Like brah, now all my foes get mowed down so |
| How the fuck your grass is greener dog |
| When there’s this blood in it, huh? |
| I don’t have to rhyme, now I hear the shit you’re talking |
| When you’re sounding like a pantomime |
| Fuck it, y’all more like phantom mind |
| Hear a little me, you homie, that shit you can’t deny |
| I expect my name to be mentioned now when it’s thank you time |
| I’m past the dime, I’ma die plus a dime wine |
| Makes me Donnie Halfaway when he’s sipping on Shine Dine |
| I’m the illest, now I’m from New York, fuck who the trillest |
| In that double groose bubble with leather in that chinchilla, ah! |