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DonDada Video (MV)




Performed By: Ray Nyce
Length: 2:52
Written by: Raymond Cioffi




Ray Nyce - DonDada Lyrics




Pull up then I peel off almost knocked the wheel off
Can't relate wit none of y'all so I just start to feel lost
Whole team been on go mode shots flyin' thru ya polo
Bullets prolly gonna f*ck around and hit the horse on the logo
Louie vest all I do is flex run up on us you get run down
If the coochie wet make a movie next but I ain't really tryna cuff now
Shawty litty in the club I just wanna see you bust down
Bitch I'm gettin' to the chicken you know a youngin' need that Kung Pao
I'm saucin' on em I body him put the coffin on em
Lit some backwoods at his funeral started coughin' on em
I'm flossin' on em in the Porsche put the horses on him
Blowin' money fast Hustlin' Rick Rossin' on em
I'm the type to set demands get the bands
And if you second guess the plan I wont let you get the chance stupid
Like 69 in that interview what you finna do
Nothin, I swear to god if you start with me I'm a finish you

Count it slow rack it up
Money phone that's the plug
Bitch we came out the mud
Now we paid now we good
That's a fact
Put that on my momma
Young boy chase these commas I'm a
Get to the bag ya lookin' at the real DonDada
Hermès on my collar

Count it slow rack it up
Money phone that's the plug
Bitch we came out the mud
Now we paid now we good
That's a fact
Put that on my momma
Young boy chase these commas I'm a
Get to the bag ya lookin' at the real DonDada
Hermès on my collar

That designer drippin' on me It's all facts
But these rappers sound like fiction to me It's all cap
I don't care if they listen to me they all wack
Kill a rapper that's tradition to me he fall flat
From the top to the bottom slime
You get lobotomized second that you drop a line
And if your partner want that smoke double homicide
Ain't no problem bitch I promise I am not the guy
Can't accept no less than perfect homie dot ya I's
And cross ya T's crossin' me? Someone gotta die
Bottom line is I'm not the type who playin' games
Columbine white boy goin' straight insane
Dollar signs on my mind bitch I'm takin aim
Make the money disappear like I'm David Blain
Don't compare your drip wit mine it just ain't the same
And all these bars man that's somethin' I just can't explain
Now say my name

Count it slow rack it up
Money phone that's the plug
Bitch we came out the mud
Now we paid now we good
That's a fact
Put that on my momma
Young boy chase these commas I'm a
Get to the bag ya lookin' at the real DonDada
Hermès on my collar

Count it slow rack it up
Money phone that's the plug
Bitch we came out the mud
Now we paid now we good
That's a fact
Put that on my momma
Young boy chase these commas I'm a
Get to the bag ya lookin' at the real DonDada
Hermès on my collar
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Pull up then I peel off almost knocked the wheel off
Can't relate wit none of y'all so I just start to feel lost
Whole team been on go mode shots flyin' thru ya polo
Bullets prolly gonna f*ck around and hit the horse on the logo
Louie vest all I do is flex run up on us you get run down
If the coochie wet make a movie next but I ain't really tryna cuff now
Shawty litty in the club I just wanna see you bust down
Bitch I'm gettin' to the chicken you know a youngin' need that Kung Pao
I'm saucin' on em I body him put the coffin on em
Lit some backwoods at his funeral started coughin' on em
I'm flossin' on em in the Porsche put the horses on him
Blowin' money fast Hustlin' Rick Rossin' on em
I'm the type to set demands get the bands
And if you second guess the plan I wont let you get the chance stupid
Like 69 in that interview what you finna do
Nothin, I swear to god if you start with me I'm a finish you

Count it slow rack it up
Money phone that's the plug
Bitch we came out the mud
Now we paid now we good
That's a fact
Put that on my momma
Young boy chase these commas I'm a
Get to the bag ya lookin' at the real DonDada
Hermès on my collar

Count it slow rack it up
Money phone that's the plug
Bitch we came out the mud
Now we paid now we good
That's a fact
Put that on my momma
Young boy chase these commas I'm a
Get to the bag ya lookin' at the real DonDada
Hermès on my collar

That designer drippin' on me It's all facts
But these rappers sound like fiction to me It's all cap
I don't care if they listen to me they all wack
Kill a rapper that's tradition to me he fall flat
From the top to the bottom slime
You get lobotomized second that you drop a line
And if your partner want that smoke double homicide
Ain't no problem bitch I promise I am not the guy
Can't accept no less than perfect homie dot ya I's
And cross ya T's crossin' me? Someone gotta die
Bottom line is I'm not the type who playin' games
Columbine white boy goin' straight insane
Dollar signs on my mind bitch I'm takin aim
Make the money disappear like I'm David Blain
Don't compare your drip wit mine it just ain't the same
And all these bars man that's somethin' I just can't explain
Now say my name

Count it slow rack it up
Money phone that's the plug
Bitch we came out the mud
Now we paid now we good
That's a fact
Put that on my momma
Young boy chase these commas I'm a
Get to the bag ya lookin' at the real DonDada
Hermès on my collar

Count it slow rack it up
Money phone that's the plug
Bitch we came out the mud
Now we paid now we good
That's a fact
Put that on my momma
Young boy chase these commas I'm a
Get to the bag ya lookin' at the real DonDada
Hermès on my collar
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Raymond Cioffi
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Ray Nyce

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