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bread and butter - the homie chris lyrics

the homie chris

they say that it’s the root of all evil, oh man, what an omen
i guess that explains those people thats pictured on it
founding fathers, rolling stones, i’m adopted
not a bills fan, but they call me unpatriotic

risk taker, icebreaker, spit fire
can you hold water or do you need new tires
my rhymes are like shingles on the roof over your head
try to sh*t on me
i p*ssed them off they never led
i stick to what i know hold water then grow
they try to cut me down with they words like jim crow
we pay them no minds, they suffer from broken hearts
you’ll never hit a bull’s*eye when playing with broken darts

drop jewels on my dudes disguised as lumped coal
a thousand years later they families struck gold
from knowledge that i spit
metamorphic rocks, playa s***
free spirit flow
never had to pay to play my s***

got a lot on my plate and when the chips are down, i’m still eatin
bread & b*tter
bread & b*tter
bread & b*tter
got a lot on my plate and when the chips are down, i’m still eatin
bread & b*tter
bread & b*tter
bread & b*tter
get money (get money)
go wit ya bread & b*tter
get money (get money)
go wit ya bread & b*tter
bread & b*tter
bread & b*tter
bread & b*tter
bread & b*tter
bread & b*tter
bread & b*tter
go with ya bread & b*tter mayne
l.b

i’m finna bomb on the track, everybody clear the room
the wrecks n’ effect, zoom zoom, then it boom
l.b. the picasso, paint pictures that is visual
respect the og or imma make you look miserable

sit you out, 5 degrees, no chill
and then ask you, how an eskimo feel
you a cheerleader n****, l.b. is a stallion
been rappin since peace signs and african medallions

n**** you get drunk off a can of four loco
we used get drunk off eight ball and sisquo
smoking wet boys and counting our figures
with the girls we ain’t tripping off no lame a** n****s

still sitting on the porch and money on solid
got a crown royal bag and i call it my wallet
the picasso norybel is a big deep thinker
i’m a beggar like that n**** on olive and skinker (i’ll rap for money)

i’m nice with this and n*ggas know
pick a beat and pick a flow then call a play like pick and roll
i’m to the basket on you b*st*rds this is now a give and go
cuz everytime i busta rhyme i hear em yelling “get some mo”

get the bread like b*tterball and cut em off
like the end of the loaf, no dej, come to my stage and you toast
i’m from the city where they go in
b*tches with they sew*in
be careful on that tip fam
the theory is a low end

yo bars ain’t hittin i’m skipping over your mixtape
you touch my aux cord i’m hitting n*ggas with switch blades
a new era and i ain’t talking about no fitted hat
look what they did to rap they made it whack, and we can’t get it back

d*mn, at least i know this is my go*to
load up the protools and super sayan on my goku
thought i told you, please miss me with that local
the reach is global, i brought the whole team to show you

- the homie chris lyrics

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