MemoTheMafioso - DoughBoy lyrics

Tri$ten

My heart cold, mind gone
With a mouth full of gold
I’m a doughboy gettin' money all that I know
Self made bread winner no one
Showed me the ropes
The Don dada, shot caller
No one puttin' me on
I ain’t worry bout a soul
Boy I stay with a po‘
If anybody finna’ Bol then
His body get rolled
Ion’ care bout’ opinions I just
Say what I know i’m a doughboy get it til’
The day that I’m gone

I make M’s not friends so
Our circle is closed
Real doughboy gettin’ money all that I know
I could flip a hunnid’ times
And I still need mo’
Go getter, bread winner
Bitch I fiend for the dough
First time I touch 10’s said I need 10 more
Throw some bands up in the trap
Get it back 10 fold
I’m a hustler and a playa
Bitch I play both roles
I gotta love hate relationship
With money and hoes
I know the real gon relate
I know the fake gon’ hate
Praise the motherfuckin' real
If you ain't then you late
All the lames speaking on me cause
I do what they can’t
Every time I make a flip I
Put some bands in a safe
I make plays count cake off of
The risks that I take
I can hear yo stomach achin'
Cause the risk ain’t made
Big bank or little bank
What the fuck do ya’ think
If you ain’t adding you subtracting
Get the fuck out the way

And for these dead presidents
We knock his head off his throat
Five piece, one play
You ain't seen that before
Whatchu need, bet I got it
Come and cop for the low
I'm either runnin up a check
Or with the work on the road
I could teach you 30 times how
To ball like a pro
And I could teach you 30 mo'
And you'd still be broke
I flip a gram to a O, turn a bitch to a hoe
Only dollas making sense and that's
All that I know ima fiend for the guap
Bitch I'm part of the mob
I count cake, runnin' clocks
Swear this shit don't stop
Gotta dolla from a dime and
Started huggin' the block
Since then, past 10
I've been thumbin' through knots
I been on top, the opps really been all talk
I can tell he pump fakin' from
The way that he walk
Pave lanes, make change
That's the way I was taught
Applying pressure out they necks
Till they line me in chalk
(That's on the mob)

My heart cold, mind gone
With a mouth full of gold
I’m a doughboy getting money all that I know
Self made bread winner no one
Showed me the ropes
The Don dada, shot caller
No one puttin' me on
I ain’t worry bout a soul
Boy I stay with a po‘
If anybody finna’ Bol then
His body get rolled
Ion’ care bout’ opinions I just
Say what I know i’m a doughboy get it til’
The day that I’m gone