Luyện nghe bài hát Get Breaded

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

My family'll reach 'fore you make a bet
When you lay in a buck?
When you gon' bust suckers
Upside the head with another

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

You right, I my drops for the club
And the trunk like a pregnant
Come with a album every or nine months
See ain't ready

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

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

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

If you'se obsessed your wealth, fanatic
More carats than a bunny
Pop yo' collar one time if you got a weed
Get your bread, bounce your

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

Whatup ma, too G's to consume?
I spit game, so I can in your womb
I know what you thinkin', I'm just teasin' the
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 flare for some
so hot, got summer scared to come

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

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

To all my gettin' money if you love the song
Tell man if he broke, he dead-ass wrong
You better get your bread, your head

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

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

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

You nothin' like what you say
Out here nuttin' nice for brownie points or stripes
Niggaz take your with box cutters
Fuck a knife, just for rights

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

boom boom, boom, boom
Crazy weebleations, boss boom
Bills, wheels, and about eleven-thousand
Worth of counterfeit bills marked money and sour deals

223 spitters, paper go-getters
digit figures, tymers, ballers, hillside niggaz
Get bread, bounce your head

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

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

And you have it
Three weighin' in at 300 plus
Ya undersmell
Fat Joe, Sauce and E-40, ya undersmell that?
East Coast West Coast Connection,

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