Cash lyrics

Artist  : Big Moe 
Song : Cash



 Send "Cash" Ringtone to your Cell 

 
(Chorus: Noke D)

 I'm talking cash, nigga

 Gripping grain, swanging lanes

 We talking cash, nigga

 Candy paint on all them Range

 We talking cash, nigga

 Don't try to stop my shine

 We talking cash, nigga

 Cause I tussle on the mind

 

 I'm talking cash, nigga - 4x

 

 [Big Moe]

 It's Big Moe I stepped up in the door

 Out the Southside bitch I'm far from a hoe

 I ain't even scared and you know I'm down to
wreck it

 I'ma hit the bed Moe-Yo gone get naked

 Got to strap my glock, got to strap my
ding-a-ling

 Out the Southside, Moe-Yo gone sing sing

 I'ma swing swing, crawl down slow

 It's that Big Moe and you know I'm no hoe

 I'ma knock down that hoe Toni Braxton

 It's Moe-Yo come down there hating hoes I'm
taxing

 ?Slacking sleeping off? you can't be talking
about my click

 You know it's Wreckshop, hating hoes be on
dick

 It's that boy Moe, I'm out the Southside

 I done came down, Moe-Yo I'm gone chop

 Ain't gone stop to the T-O-P

 I creep I'm putting it down from the M-O to the
E

 My nigga Noke Deezy, all about his cheezy

 It's the Moe-Yo claim pussy got to be greasy

 Got to keep it wet, on the mic I be's a vet

 I'm coming down five thousand gotta get my
check

 If you want me to be on your song, or sing a
damn hook

 It gotta be five grand bitch I'm coming down
cool

 With my nigga what Blue U

 Out the Southside, M-O-E a damn fool

 With my partner D-Reck, hoes they been
checked

 It's that Wreckshop, earning paper and our
respect

 And my brother K-Luv, my nigga Big Toon

 Knocking down soon, Moe-Yo gotta get a room

 At the end of the fucking night, I'm gone be
fucking

 It's that Moe coming down, I do the gangsta
strutting

 My nigga King One, let's have fun

 My partners Keke, Weets, the Lil Red coming down
on hard

 My nigga High G, you know he's down with me

 M-O to the E, from the 1, 2, 3

 The Wreckshop tree, that's where I be from

 Partner Silly Yo coming down on fucking hard

 

 (Chorus)

 

 [Pimp C]

 Since I was 17, I've been sipping on sip

 Bitch niggas come through empty out the clip

 I love old school cars, with candy ass paint

 Your other niggas pussies cause them other
niggas fake

 You hollin' you a killa but I know you ain't no
killa

 I see you in the street bitch I'm a trill ass
nigga

 And now since the eighties, putting niggas
down

 Letting motherfuckers hear all that bass
around

 I ride an Impala, don't pop my collar

 Coming through the record company, want all my
dollas

 You ain't got my paper bitch, you don't get no
dick

 And I ain't put my dick in the uh you wrecked

 Cause tramp hoes be talking, on the pilla
walking

 Out the street get them hoes, telling em bout
all your clothes

 And your car sitting on gold, and how much you
get at shows

 You shouldn't trust that bitch, that bitch will
get you hit

 I see it all the time, bitches get knocked on
the grind

 Keep it ten with that wife, coming back in the
middle of the night

 Say bitch you need to stop, you need to sell
some cock

 You need to get off them rocks, and get on
private yachts

 I'm talking bout they cousin, coming through
bitches buzzing

 Drinking on hennessy, bitch you don't know Pimp
C

 You late on the slab, coming through whipping
ass

 I whip it up in the lab, and put it out like
it's dark around

 

 (Chorus)