Break Bread

[Intro: movie sample] I'm gonna hold it out And I'm not give a damn what I do And I'm gonna make the biggest God damn explosion You've ever heard... [Chorus 4X: Meko the Pharaoh] I make bitches break bread for the game And punk muthafuckas in my lane, do the same [Midnight] I'm getting brain, in the back of my Mustang And muthafuckas better feel my pain, I'm switching lanes Running from the cops, they can't catch me, see I was born sitting Busting off my Glocks is naturally, ways That's the real, and the way it has to be, see life is a tragedy Without tragedy, there's no life in me Besides when bitches make me sick Always talking that bullshit [Christbearer] Yeah... I'm making bitches break bread for the game Leaving niggas left for dead, in the game Young Sugar Shane, his cousin crazy Eddie Kane Pimping hoes where I steady reign Christbearer, step out in the mink Making all you bitches pink, how close can I step to the weight Without falling, yeah, Christbearer, balling I hear the streets calling, for di-di yes ya'lling [Interlude: Christbearer (Midnight) {girl}] Aiyo, yo, check it out, yo (Aiy, aiy, come here for a second, let me holler at you) Suuu-ey, yo sweet water, can I holla-holla? {Hell no} (Aiy, let me holla at you, come here for a second) {I ain't try'nna talk to ya'll broke ass nigga} (I just wanna holla at you, come here) {Uh-uh, nigga please} (Ahh, fuck you bitch) [Madam Scheez] I'm diggin low up, for triple folder, try'nna get over I told her, your life is over, I'm your Jehovah Controller, like I was goaler, mental high dome like a roller That means ya troll up, see mama's home, I ain't sober Intoxicated, and immulated, since she dated But never made it, her hair was braided, so we shade it She contemplated, and elevated, then related Triple X rated, triple X rated... [Chorus 4X] [Midnight] Yeah, dollars make the hoes holla And best believe we on a mission to make cheese Doing eight down the back streets, blowing on trees Heater by my side, I never know when I'mma ride, I'm a pimp for life The game ain't change, I got a tat' that re-arrange I push an all black range, with about five ratchets in the back, known gats With a pocket full of stacks, that's beyond for a dream Go head, tapping ya locks, supreme, you know what I mean [Interlude: Christbearer (girl)] Hey, hey, hey, hey, ho, hey yo, you got my money? (hey baby) Do you have my money? (yeah, baby, I got your money) Ahh, yeah, cuz I gots to get paid, I gots to stay paid (Nigga, I ain't gotta do this shit no more, fuck this shit) No more? What, what, what, you mean, no more There's plenty of, there's plenty of money in the hood (What you talking bout, you broke) There's plenty of tricks on the clicks, baby (I ain't got no...) What? (You know, I ain't got time for that shit) Oh, I will slap, I will slap-- (Nigga, you'll what? Nigga you won't slap a Muthafucka hand Nigga, fuck you, ain't nobody got time for you and your punk ass games Fuck you and all your bitches, I don't have time for this shit I'm bout to get out there, and get my money, on the real, on the grind, fuck What you talking bout) [Chorus 4X]