FBG Cash – Memo

FBG Cash – Memo Lyrics

Artist: FBG Cash
Song: Memo

Huh, huh
Huh, huh, huh
n#gg#, you your daddy son
n#gg#, you your daddy son

n#gg#, you your daddy son
n#gg#, you your daddy son, everybody know that you a ho
Takin’ pictures with them pistols that we know you’ll never blow
You not really ’bout that life, you that type to fight a ho

But won’t turn up with these n#gg#s that’s gon’ put you in the floor
In the dirt, I’m that type to wear my victim on a shirt
I’m that type that never talk, I’d rather hit ya where it hurt
I’m that type to tote a pipe, you that type that go to church

You that type that run his mouth, I’m tryna get a n#gg# murked
The news say they found another n#gg# in a dumpster
Say, “He was a dope boy,” he probably was a buster
12 came and snatched us, now they askin’ questions

I don’t know what happеned, we don’t remеmber nothin’
Scouts on me now, but I been ballin’ since a freshman
When I was a soph#more, I was breakin’ records
Dropped out of school, I didn’t make it to a junior

I was sellin’ dope to all the motherf#ckin’ students
Everything I know, I had to get it out the street, yeah
You was doin’ math and I was breakin’ down a P, yeah
Trap doin’ numbers, I could never go to sleep, yeah

Started with a half, now I want the whole thing, yeah
n#gg#, you your daddy son, everybody know that you a ho
Takin’ pictures with them pistols that we know you’ll never blow
You not really ’bout that life, you that type to fight a ho

But won’t turn up with these n#gg#s that’s gon’ put you in the floor
In the dirt, I’m that type to wear my victim on a shirt
I’m that type that never talk, I’d rather hit ya where it hurt
I’m that type to tote a pipe, you that type that go to church

You that type that run his mouth, I’m tryna get a n#gg# murked
Police askin’ questions ’bout bodies and n#gg#s confessin’
I beat them two cases, now it’s back to jug and finessin’
All out late night with this pipe, no, I’m not with the restin’

He got hit with the nick’ and the n#gg# still ain’t learn his lesson
Me and my shooters’ll pull up on your #ss with that Smith & Wesson
Every time we pop up, we just blowin’, ain’t askin’ no question
Shout out Duck, he gon’ slide with some sh#t they not even expectin’

And the opps out here workin’ with cops ’cause their #ss need protection
b#tch, I’m Woo Wop
New car, new b#tch, and a new watch
If you lackin’ with a opp, then two drop

Steady blowin’ at the opps got my tool hot
On the block, thug life, b#tch, 2Pac
Yeah, we really with the sh#ts, n#gg#, you not
I ain’t got a drizzy on me, twenty-two shots

I ain’t got the drizzy on me, twenty-two shots
n#gg#, you your daddy son, everybody know that you a ho
Takin’ pictures with them pistols that we know you’ll never blow
You not really ’bout that life, you that type to fight a ho

But won’t turn up with these n#gg#s that’s gon’ put you in the floor
In the dirt, I’m that type to wear my victim on a shirt
I’m that type that never talk, I’d rather hit ya where it hurt
I’m that type to tote a pipe, you that type that go to church

You that type that run his mouth, I’m tryna get a n#gg# murked
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FBG Cash Lyrics – Memo

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Release Year: 2022