Big Moe Cash Lyrics

Artist: Big Moe
Publishers: ©Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Popularity : 2 users have visited this page.
Length: 4:33

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[Chorus: Noke D]
I'm talking cash, *****
Gripping grain, swanging lanes
We talking cash, *****
Candy paint on all them Range
We talking cash, *****
Don't try to stop my shine
We talking cash, *****
Cause I tussle on the mind

I'm talking cash, ***** [Repeat: x4]

[Big Moe]
It's Big Moe I stepped up in the door
Out the Southside ***** 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 ****
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 ***** Noke Deezy, all about his cheezy
It's the Moe-Yo claim ***** 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 ***** I'm coming down cool
With my ***** what Blue you
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 ***** Big Toon
Knocking down soon, Moe-Yo gotta get a room
At the end of the ****ing night, I'm gone be ****ing
It's that Moe coming down, I do the gangsta strutting
My ***** King One, let's have fun
My partners Keke, Weets, the Lil Red coming down on hard
My ***** 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 ****ing hard


[Pimp C]
Since I was 17, I've been sipping on sip
***** *****s come through empty out the clip
I love old school cars, with candy *** paint
Your other *****s pussies cause them other *****s fake
You hollin' you a killer but I know you ain't no killer
I see you in the street ***** I'm a trill *** *****
And now since the eighties, putting *****s down
Letting ************s hear all that bass around
I ride an Impala, don't pop my collar
Coming through the record company, want all my dollars
You ain't got my paper *****, you don't get no ****
And I ain't put my **** 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 *****, that ***** will get you hit
I see it all the time, *****es get knocked on the grind
Keep it ten with that wife, coming back in the middle of the night
Say ***** you need to stop, you need to sell some ****
You need to get off them rocks, and get on private yachts
I'm talking bout they cousin, coming through *****es buzzing
Drinking on Hennessy, ***** you don't know Pimp see
You late on the slab, coming through whipping ***
I whip it up in the lab, and put it out like it's dark around