by Seth Mitchell
The doughboy is all grown
He’s a king on his throne
He thinks he’s Al Capone
To the gangstas well known
To the cops unknown
Hard as a bone
His heart is a stone
He got so much money he don’t need a loan
And he only talks business on the payphone
Doughboy
On the streets he’s royal
His soldiers are loyal
Buries his oppositions bodies in the soil
Doughboy
Hiding in his lair
With a junkie’s wife, having an affair
About the lives he ruins, he doesn’t care
Got all that money and he don’t even share
Doughboy
Bow down to his dope
Bow down to the ‘hood pope
And watch your life slide down a slope
As you realize you have no hope
Doughboy
Lives he slays
Junkies pays
The streets decays
As his money heavy weighs
Doughboy
He’s the man around town
Wearin’ a crown
Never shows a frown
Swimmin’ in cash, ready to drown
Doughboy
The ‘hood politician
With a ‘hood tuition
On a money mission
With a cop superstition
Everyday usin’ six rounds of ammunition
Doughboy
Walking down the street with a grin
Drinkin’ his gin
And scratchin’ his chin
Doesn’t care if he commits a sin
He’ll sell dope to his own kin
If you owe him money, he’ll rip off your skin
And tell you to play the world’s smallest violin
Doughboy
Sellin’ drugs since June
Started out as a goon
Now all soldiers are in a platoon
Feedin’ dope to his junkies like a baby with a spoon
He’s snitch immune
And stoppin’ no time soon
Doughboy
He walks down the street with a stomp
Actin’ like he’s Donald Trump
Drivin’ fifty miles over a speed bump
And throwin’ dead bodies in the neighborhood dump
Doughboy
