Got that bread, meat, cheese, sandwich
Trip, and then you never snitch
Got that bread, meat, cheese, sandwich
I goes in, this is such a cinch
Man your lyrics are so stale, your delivery is frail,
And every nigga that i hung with just use me for bail
Notice it every time i pick up the microphone and spit
Insincere when standing alone/ heart beating/ becoming stale and frantic/
I stay making bread, i married sarah lee
Ay yo come on, girlfriend i ain't no actor, really
You frail artist, ima get rid of ya stale garbage
Or fuck my enemies bitch, acting bad and getting rich
Or the comb in my head enough said we need the bread
But more less the vest i'm comin for ya'll neck
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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