Luyện nghe bài hát Get Breaded

Ooh, E-40, get breaded, get
Money, get breaded, Fat Joe, get breaded
Ooh, E-40, get breaded, get
Sauce Money, get breaded, Fat Joe, get

My penitentiary reach 'fore you make a bet
When you lay in a buck?
you gon' bust these suckers
Upside the head with dump?

I ain't no punk I'm like a basepipe I'm dope
E'rytime I touch the microphone I come smoke
Playa potnah whatchu talkin' 'bout? What dey lookin'
I just come off a double-album You that shit was tight

You right, I make my for the club
And the trunk a pregnant lady
Come a album every eight or nine months
See y'all ain't

At seventeen, I had a dollars, eh eh, thousands
Chevy Impalas, Granadas, Cougars, lower-development
Who can split it, seen it, did it, in it, done it?
When y'all was tryin' to walk it, see I was to run it

a lot of trees, drunk, trees drunk
Locked a lot of kis in the trunk, kis in the
On my way from the sushi bar, drinkin' saki
diamonded down and clusters on my fingers like Liberace

To all my 223 spitters, hustlers, paper go
Seven figures, tymers, ballers, hillside niggaz
Get your bread, bounce head

If you'se obsessed with wealth, fanatic
More than a bunny rabbit
Pop yo' collar one if you got a weed habit
Get bread, bounce your head

The way I get involved if it mean more dough
Uh huh, Money, E 4 O
You know they want 'em, diamonds, 'em
Treat all my hoes like Blank, son and Tae-Bo on 'em

Whatup ma, too G's to consume?
I game, so I can ease in your womb
I know you thinkin', I'm just teasin' the tomb
While I kick it 40, take the keys to my room

Lobster, shrimpin', simpin', gangsta limpin'
Went Sauce Money to big pimpin'
Like bell bottoms, too much flare for
Flow so hot, got scared to come

But everybody on the track holdin'
Five hundred thou', that's the Golden
From BK to Oaktown, pass the 'round
Let me out who broke now, uh huh

There's love in the East and love in the West
Coast to coast G's do you do best
Just get your bread, bounce your

To all my gettin' money chicks if you love the
Tell your man if he broke, he wrong
You better get bread, bounce your head

Yeah, who wanna fuck with The Don?
I hate you with a passion, fuck around and get blast on
My niggaz mad, and they kill you quick
Come out or get hit, we the shit, think I would lie to you,

You could die with the snitch and buried in the ditch
with the Fifth, try to slide but you slid
We the of clicks, Terror Squad to the death of me
Remember me? The same kid that ran triz on

Felony's the minimal, enemies, I you
Step to me, c'est la vie and I'm you
Drillin' you holes in your chest, you opposin' the best
T S, supreme, on the nest

You ain't nothin' like you say
Out here ain't nuttin' nice for brownie points or
Niggaz take your with box cutters
Fuck a knife, for braggin' rights

Lost in the
Drownin', sinkin', holdin' my
in the game
Broke, miserable, starvin' to

Boom boom boom, boom,
weebleations, boss burn boom
Bills, wheels, and about eleven-thousand
of counterfeit bills marked money and sour dope deals

223 spitters, hustlers go-getters
Seven figures, tymers, ballers, hillside niggaz
Get your bread, your head

If obsessed with your wealth
And got carats than a bunny rabbit
Pop yo' one time if you got a weed habit
Get your bread, bounce your

Get your bread, bounce head
Get your bread, your head

And there you it
tycoons weighin' in at 300 plus
Ya that?
Fat Joe, Money and E-40, ya undersmell that?
East Coast Coast Connection, y'know?

Stick Wid It Records, new millennium
Ya me? Where you come from?
Bitch, you know we do this, ahoa,