Danny!

Danny! - D.A.N.N.Y. lyrics

rate me

Oh, for sure

Y'all better get with the program

Hey yo, I saw my face on America's Most Wanted last night

They said I was murdering tracks

Hey yo, spark up the doobie and pass the beer

The little newbie that came to save rap is here

In a street battle I spit three bars to make you see stars

Niggas say I'm sick with the flow, I sneeze SARS

But uh, I take an aspirin to control it, thanks for askin'

Comparing yourself to me is like a Beemer to a stationwagon

And wack rappers I'm bound to expose

I'm showin' love to them strippers dancing 'round the poles, yeah

I'm from the city where Confederate flags fall

And everybody got a neck redder than rat balls

That's why I rock a sweater with tags off

And keep at least one chain and bracelet on my neck and my wrist

I flip records like bricks

You muthafuckas never seen a nigga flip a record like this

I cock and squeeze my Smith & Wessun like this, nigga BLAOW

D, 'cause he does it right

A, 'cause his flow's aiight

N, 'cause he's new, to the

N, 'cause he's kinda nice

Y, would you ever wanna doubt the kid?

It's Danny, Danny Danny

(How you livin', Danny Swain?) I'm surrounded by prostitutes

Throwin' my banana around like I was tossin' fruit

Smackin' ass and mad titties

I swear, her booty was telling me to grab on it, just ask it

If getting head from your mom was a class, bet I'd pass it

Shit get drastic, I'm passing her the chapstick

D. Swain, ain't nothing stoppin' him

Make famous dead people hop up out a coffin and

Do the Rockaway, on some Michael Jackson "Thriller" shit

Got my own style, I don't care if you ain't feelin' it

I got fans in places I haven't yet seen

I can even make a lesbian have a wet dream

I guess, the next thing for me to do is sit back

Spit raps with flows that are fresher than Tic-Tacs

Sold beats for my album? Yeah I did that

I bring the heat nigga, keep your socks on

When they want a hot track it's my door they knock up on

All of these producers asking me, what records should they stock up on

If I blow up and everybody act stank

I give a fuck, I'ma shimmy all the way to the bank, yo

Word to Gamma Nu, peace to Alpha Lambda

Any problems with the kid, they'll be bringing out the hammers

And I ain't talkin' 'bout guns

I'm talkin' 'bout sledgehammers bigger than Attila the Hun

We roll deep up in the building, it's done

I even crash award shows, Norah Jones, that's my Grammy

(You that nigga from Da Band?) Naw, that's Miami

One thing come before the music, that's my family

One thing come before that, my Lord

Oh my Lord, I think they 'bout to tow my Accord

I'm double-parked on these Billboard charts, nigga BLAOW

...that's the sound they make

When I pull out my 37-pound snake

(Gosh darn it, what's the big idea?

Does he always have to brag on what his dick size is?)

Actually, I was talkin' bout my pet anaconda

He's the best and I'm fond of him

Except there's something wrong with him

All he wanna do is sit next to Wanda Sykes, sike

Change the game what I'ma do

I'll be at a bar mitzvah spittin' a rhyme or two

The rap game needs a change

So I ain't gonna stop 'til I hear everybody screaming my name

Nice guys finish last? Hell naw, nice guys finish first

Competition I'ma put 'em in a hearse

More flavor than a pack of Cinnaburst, nigga BLAOW

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