bread on my head 2 - squillo lyrics
[intro: wildkarduno]
yeah, you know what the f*ck going on, n*gga
[verse 1: wildkarduno]
bread on my head, come get the pay
them shooters pop out, they find where you stay
might do the glock but i still tote the k
if that n*gga cap, he get lowercased
and shout out the judge, she closed the case
that n*gga got cracked like a vase
(brr) yeah, we know that n*ggas ain’t on sh*t
you know i’m a king, on my throne sh*t
i just got a glock, two tone sh*t
chasing the money, just leave me alone, sh*t
i’m on that making plays on my phone sh*t
call smoke, he pop out with a mac
you is not gang, boy, you need to relax (gеt back)
(brr) and them fifty rounds gon’ make him run track
how you say you trappin? you ain’t seen a rack
you ain’t been in the fiеld ’til you see a rat
cap rap, n*gga, i don’t condone it
any gun that you have, man, i owned it
we was gon’ slide on your block, we postponed it
serving them birds, n*gga, in the morning
n*ggas be under my posts, they be [?]
i bet that sh*t don’t phase me
you had a glock, n*gga, why you tase me?
street n*gga turned rat, you amaze me
not grinding, n*gga, you is so lazy
in the trap cookin’ dope, it get hazy
sending you shots, you gon’ duck, daisy
n*gga said he gon’ rob me, crazy (n*ggas crazy)
[verse 2: squillo]
grab the glock, yeah, i load up
i crack me seal, yeah, i pour up
said he got bread on my head, i’m like, “so what?”
and everywhere i go, yeah, i keep a pole tucked
i got the goose, n*gga, in my cup
i spot me a opp, [then he really duck?]
we lay the n*gga down, we don’t give a f*ck
these n*ggas be p*ssies, typers, actors
f*ck with the clones, yeah, them n*ggas [hackers?]
i’m up in that field, n*gga, like the packers
can’t f*ck with your gang ’cause you n*ggas lackers
i was always going up, now i’m going faster
just shot your brother, he gon’ need a pastor
i’m f*ckin’ your b*tch and she really flattered
top three in plugg sh*t, i’m a master
bread on my head, i keep a k
them shooters pop out and find where you lay
finna shoot up the spot right where you stay
that n*gga a b*tch, won’t run my fade
finna cut up your brother, n*gga, with a blade
finna bomb your block, n*gga, with a [?]
and i pour me a four in the minute maid
your b*tch in the back and she gettin’ laid (fah, fah)
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