Donedeal Season

Guess who's back on the wax

Still strapped with pat with gats

Dealin out stacks on parole

Scopin dogs and cats smokin squidgy black

Don't give a rats I'm sick o' the dole

I need more cash

I need me chance

Me birds got fat

I'm feelin' trapped

I ran outta blow

Can't afford Gucci slacks, no more stacks

And now we're goin' to donedeal to make all me dough

When it's late at night and it's after dark

We're discussing all the dogs that we saw at the park

Tryna figure the ones that are less likely to bark

After givin' a blowback off a joint we sparked

Then we buy an ounce of cheese

Blow it in the face if a bichon frise

Throw it in the back o' the van with ease

Make sure it's baked and it's guaranteed

That we're gonna get away wit' your pet

No sweat

If a younger comes hit him with a left shoot 'em wit' a tec

Leave 'em wrecked have him beat

Outburst don't give a fuck

No threat, here to pay off our debt's

Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci

The pedigree tins, can go very far

Ya lure the dogs in the back o' the car

Away from their owner, away from their ma'

The owner don't know it, dog's in the palm o' your hand

Back o' the van, your dog's goin' in the back of the van (woof woof)

Back o' the van, your dog's goin' in the back of the van

Back o' the van, your dog's goin' in the back of the van

Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci

Straight rollin' down the south side o' the

Liffey, liffey, liffey, liffey, liffey, liffey

Gone in a jiffy, jiffy

Puppy in the back, baby fat lookin

Squishy, squishy, squishy, squishy, squishy, squishy

Fat lookin' squishy, squishy

Baked off me titties, titties

Givin' the doggy kisses, kisses

Little does he know he's gettin' sold for

One fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty (fading while next line begins) fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty, fifty

The Gucci, the Prada, the Louis Vuitton

The Gucci, the Prada, the Louis Vuitton

Donedeal season with the dog rob and leave ya

Got your bichon fuckin' frise in the back o' the van fishin'

Jolly after hit me brick and get the lemon that I'm breezin

Me and alex we be creepin' on our victims we be sweepin'

Wha'?

Callin' garda tryna catch us better stop cause you're not

Callin' garda tryna catch us beat the cop 'n' you'll be shot

Sendin' your sno' back to your maw

Robbin' your dog while we're smokin' the pot

Smokin the wha?

Smokin the pot!

Smokin the wha'?

Smokin the pot!

Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci

The pedigree tins, can go very far

Ya lure the dogs in the back o' the car

Away from their owner, away from their ma'

The owner don't know it, dog's in the palm o' your hand

Back o' the van, your dog's goin' in the back of the van

Back o' the van, your dog's goin' in the back of the van

Back o' the van, your dog's goin' in the back of the van

Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci, Gucci!