Get Breaded Lyrics - E-40

Oooooh, E-40, get breaded, get breaded 

Sauce Money, get breaded 

Fat Joe, get breaded 

Oooooh, E-40, get breaded, get breaded 

Sauce Money, get breaded 

Fat Joe, get breaded 

My penitentiary family'll 

reach '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 ain't no punk I'm like a basepipe cause I'm dope 

E'rytime I touch the microphone, I come with smoke 

Playa potnah whatchu talkin bout? What dey lookin like? 

I just come off a double-album, you know that shit was tight 

and you right I make my drops for the club and the trunk 

Like a pregnant lady come with a album every eight or nine months 

See y'all ain't ready 

At seventeen I had a hundred dollars -- eh-eh, thousands 

Chevy Impalas,?, Cougars, lower-development housin 

Who can split it, seen it, did it, been in it, done it 

When y'all was tryin to walk it, see I was tryin to run it 

Smoked 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 saki 

I'se diamonded down and clusters on my fingers, like Liberace 

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To all my 223 spitters, hustlers paper go-getters 

Seven digit figures, tymers, ballers, hillside niggaz 

Get yer bread. bounce yer head! 

If youse obsessed withcha wealth and it 

More carats than a bunny rabbit 

Pop yo' collar one time if you got a weed habit 

Get yer bread. bounce yer head! 

The only way I get involved if it mean more dough 

(uh-huh) Sauce Money, E-4-Oh 

You know they want em, diamonds, flaunt em 

Treat all my hoes like Billy Blank son and Tae-Bo on em 

Whattup ma, too many G's to consume? 

I spit game so I can ease in your womb 

I know what you thinkin I'm just teasin the tomb 

While I kick it with 40, take the keys to my room 

Lobster, shrimpin, never simpin, gangsta limpin 

Went from Sauce Money to big pimpin 

Like bell bottoms, too much flate for some 

Flow so hot got summer scared to come 

But everybody on the track holdin weight 

Five hundred thou', that's the golden gate 

From B-K to Oaktown, pass the smoke round 

Photos 

Let me find out who broke now, uh-huh 

There's love in the East and there's love in the West 

Coast to coast G's do what you do best, just 

Get yer bread. bounce yer head! 

To all my gettin money chicks if you love the song 

Tell your man if he broke, he dead-ass wrong, you better 

Get yer bread. bounce yer head! 

Yeah, who wanna fuck with The Last Don? 

I hate you niggaz with a pass-ion 

Fuck around and get blast on 

My niggaz mad strong and they kill you quick 

Come out or get hit, we the shit 

Think I would lie to you bitch? 

You could die with the snitch, and buried alive in the ditch 

Come five with the fifth, try to slide but you slid 

We the livest of clicks, Terror Squad to the death of me 

Remember me? The same kid that ran triz on Stephanie 

Felony's the minimal, enemies I pity you 

Step to me, c'est la vie, and I'm killin you 

Drillin you with holes in your chest 

You opposin the best 

T.S., supreme, crows on the nest? like what you say out here ain't nuttin nice 

For brownie points or stripes niggaz take your life 

with boxcutters, fuck a knife, just for braggin rights 

LOST IN THE GAME! Drownin sinkin holdin my breath 

LOST IN THE GAME! Broke miserable starvin to death 

Boom boom boom, BOOM BOOM! 

Crazy weebleations. BOSS BURN BROOM! 

Bills, wheels, and about eleven-thousand dollars worth 

of counterfeit bills, marked money and sour dope deals 

To all my 223 spitters, hustlers paper go-getters 

Seven digit figures, tymers, ballers, hillside niggaz 

Get yer bread. bounce yer head! 

If youse obsessed withcha wealth and it 

More carats than a bunny rabbit 

Pop yo' collar one time if you got a weed habit 

Get yer bread. bounce yer head! 

Get yer bread. bounce yer head! 

Get yer bread. bounce yer head! 

And there you have it 

Three tycoons. weighin in at 300-plus ya undersmell that? 

Fat Joe, Sauce Money and E-40, ya undersmell that? 

East coast West Coast connection, y'know 

SicK Wid It Records, the new millineum ballers 

Ya undersmell me? Where you come from? 

Beyotch?! You know we do this . hoahhhh 

A-HOAHHHH! SHEEEIT! BEOTCH!