Get Breaded E-40 (Ft. Fat Joe & Sauce Money)

[Intro: 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

[Verse 1: E-40]
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
To all my 223 spitters, hustlers paper go-getters
Seven digit figures, tymers, ballers, hillside niggas
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!