E-40 - Get Breaded Lyrics
Oooooh, e-40, get breaded, get breadedSauce money, get breadedFat joe, get breadedOooooh, e-40, get breaded, get breadedSauce money, get breadedFat joe, get breaded[e-40]My penitentiary familyllReach fore you make a bet, when you gonna lay in a buck?When you gon bust these suckers upside the head with another dump?I aint no punk Im like a basepipe cause Im dopeErytime I touch the microphone, I come with smokePlaya potnah whatchu talkin bout? what dey lookin like?I just come off a double-album, you know that shit was tightAnd you right I make my drops for the club and the trunkLike a pregnant lady come with a album every eight or nine monthsSee yall aint readyAt seventeen I had a hundred dollars -- eh-eh, thousandsChevy impalas, ? ? , cougars, lower-development housinWho can split it, seen it, did it, been in it, done itWhen yall was tryin to walk it, see I was tryin to run itSmoked a lot of trees drunk (trees drunk)Locked a lot of keys in the trunk (keys in the trunk)On my way back from the sushi bar, drinkin sakiIse diamonded down and clusters on my fingers, like liberaceTo all my 223 spitters, hustlers paper go-gettersSeven digit figures, tymers, ballers, hillside niggazGet yer bread.. bounce yer head!If youse obsessed withcha wealth and itMore carats than a bunny rabbitPop yo collar one time if you got a weed habitGet yer bread.. bounce yer head![sauce money]The only way I get involved if it mean more dough(uh-huh) sauce money, e-4-ohYou know they want em, diamonds, flaunt emTreat all my hoes like billy blank son and tae-bo on emWhattup ma, too many gs to consume?I spit game so I can ease in your wombI know what you thinkin Im just teasin the tombWhile I kick it with 40, take the keys to my roomLobster, shrimpin, never simpin, gangsta limpinWent from sauce money to big pimpinLike bell bottoms, too much flate for someFlow so hot got summer scared to comeBut everybody on the track holdin weightFive hundred thou, thats the golden gateFrom b-k to oaktown, pass the smoke roundLet me find out who broke now, uh-huhTheres love in the east and theres love in the westCoast to coast gs do what you do best, justGet yer bread.. bounce yer head!To all my gettin money chicks if you love the songTell your man if he broke, he dead-ass wrong, you betterGet yer bread.. bounce yer head![fat joe]Yeah, who wanna ***** with the last don?I hate you niggaz with a pass-ion***** around and get blast onMy niggaz mad strong and they kill you quickCome out or get hit, we the shitThink I would lie to you *****?You could die with the snitch, and buried alive in the ditchCome five with the fifth, try to slide but you slidWe the livest of clicks, terror squad to the death of meRemember me? the same kid that ran triz on stephanieFelonys the minimal, enemies I pity youStep to me, cest la vie, and Im killin youDrillin you with holes in your chestYou opposin the bestT.s., supreme, crows on the nest[e-40]? ? like what you say out here aint nuttin niceFor brownie points or stripes niggaz take your lifeWith boxcutters, ***** a knife, just for braggin rightsLost in the game!! drownin sinkin holdin my breathLost in the game!! broke miserable starvin to deathBoom boom boom, boom boom!Crazy weebleations.. boss burn broom!Bills, wheels, and about eleven-thousand dollars worthOf counterfeit bills, marked money and sour dope dealsTo all my 223 spitters, hustlers paper go-gettersSeven digit figures, tymers, ballers, hillside niggazGet yer bread.. bounce yer head!If youse obsessed withcha wealth and itMore carats than a bunny rabbitPop yo collar one time if you got a weed habitGet yer bread.. bounce yer head!Get yer bread.. bounce yer head!Get yer bread.. bounce yer head!And there you have itThree tycoons.. weighin in at 300-plus ya undersmell that?Fat joe, sauce money and e-40, ya undersmell that?East coast west coast connection, yknowSick wid it records, the new millineum ballersYa undersmell me? where you come from?Beyotch? ! you know we do this .. hoahhhhA-hoahhhh! sheeeit! beotch!
