Ron Browz - Bout That Bread lyrics

We made into the club So I could find some talent brah Point out them haters, they gonn get to gallop bra Everyday it's a new b**h on the calendar Bring out some rack so I could f**in stylin yeah That bread, bout that f**ing bread, bout that f**ing bread Getting head, getting f**ing head, getting f**ing bread Bout that f**ing bread, bout that f**ing bread, bout that f**ing bread Getting head, getting f**ing head, getting f**ing bread I don't sleep, never in the bed, never in the bed Unless I'm sleep, with your baby mom, getting f**in mad In the trap, countin f**in bread, countin f**in bread Tryina creep, feel that f**ing head, feel that f**in led I be gone on these b**hes, countin all of my riches That a** big I mean so big, might bend it over them slippers Broke talk don't feel this sponsored links Your girl love all of my b**hes We in the club, we spend a mill Before the feds can get us Celebrate myself, yeah I'm proud of me Mami put your lips on me, that's the policy Yeah your boy spit crack, now let's try a key She don't want me stay ...just swallow me Might have met her in compton, might have met her in the east side Name is ... b**h, I'ma show you how we ride Ghost parked outside, just me and my chica I don't know about y'all, but me and my n***as we ride See you made into the club So I could find some talent brah Point out them haters, they gonn get to gallop bra Everyday it's a new b**h on the calendar Bring out some rack so I could f**in stylin yeah That bread, bout that f**ing bread, bout that f**ing bread Getting head, getting f**ing head, getting f**ing bread Bout that f**ing bread, bout that f**ing bread, bout that f**ing bread Getting head, getting f**ing head, getting f**ing bread I'm f**ing head, I'm bout that bread, that f**ing bread I'm bout that bread I said b**h please Don't bite the head, don't bite the head Now bring your friend, just bring your friend Come bless me please, y'all both go in Y'all both go in, oh lucky me I'm on that certified boom bullsh** Rip to my old b**h f** you and your whole team Can't defend against my office Step aside of my office, you wanna roll with that black mob You wanna ride with them real n***as Wanna live better ask god Fast cars like nascar, blast off like nasa Be a part of that mafia, machine gun in the black r We bout bread, n***a f** fame Ron Brows with the champagne 30 b**hes, 30 ...we live that, it's not a game We made into the club So I could find some talent brah Point out them haters, they gonn get to gallop bra Everyday it's a new b**h on the calendar Bring out some rack so I could f**in stylin yeah That bread, bout that f**ing bread, bout that f**ing bread Getting head, getting f**ing head, getting f**ing bread Bout that f**ing bread, bout that f**ing bread, bout that f**ing bread Getting head, getting f**ing head, getting f**ing bread