DoughBoy - MemoTheMafioso

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

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

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