"Bread Head" lyrics
Long live the Demon, he gon' come back from the dead
I just pulled up to the bank, withdrawed some cash same price your head
Pull up on your block like I do locs and dye your dreads
I just caught a body-ody, four-five bullets thick like Meg
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Play it in the back of my head a couple times, see if I'm wrong
Spin this bitch one more time, let's see if they gone
Kick that front door in, check every room to see if they gone
I got dicks on all of my guns, they pussy, let's see if they moan
When it's time to dance on the battlefield, we leaving our phones
Don't come outside with that fake gangster shit, leave it at home
Like a hurricane hit, whole bunch of bodies all up in my dome
The flunkies and the crash dummies be the first ones gone
He not a killer, it's the drugs
Turn a nigga block to a motherfucking rug
You can't hide in the city, we know every club
Slide on them bitches, they bloody and shitty
He got a hundred, he got a fifty
Run through boxes of bullets tryna fill up these titties
I might spin a block with him, then spin him, this shit get tricky
Long live the Demon, he gon' come back from the dead
I just pulled up to the bank, withdrawed some cash same price your head
Pull up on your block like I do locs and dye your dreads
I just caught a body-ody, four-five bullets thick like Meg
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
We don't give no fuck 'bout what they doing, so why they worried 'bout us?
Your mans was in the street, you wasn't gangster, on the curb hollering
You said you bust who head? Nigga, who dead? We ain't heard 'bout you
It's gon' be some shit coming behind that body, I'm droppin' turds 'bout em
I'm fuckin' this bitch and spreadin' them ass cheeks, that booty hole pink
Dick riding keep gettin' them niggas killed, I love when them hoes link
Blackout 'bout my bros, fuck around, get a darker skin color
I only ride with niggas that's tryna change your skin color
Yeah, bread on his head, tryna make a nigga wonder
Sent the nigga up to Zeus, he was out here playing with that thunder
When we pull up on them niggas, I'ma leave a fucking puddle
And if a nigga fold, that's out of my control, you know?
Long live the Demon, he gon' come back from the dead
I just pulled up to the bank, withdrawed some cash same price your head
Pull up on your block like I do locs and dye your dreads
I just caught a body-ody, four-five bullets thick like Meg
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
I just pulled up to the bank, withdrawed some cash same price your head
Pull up on your block like I do locs and dye your dreads
I just caught a body-ody, four-five bullets thick like Meg
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Play it in the back of my head a couple times, see if I'm wrong
Spin this bitch one more time, let's see if they gone
Kick that front door in, check every room to see if they gone
I got dicks on all of my guns, they pussy, let's see if they moan
When it's time to dance on the battlefield, we leaving our phones
Don't come outside with that fake gangster shit, leave it at home
Like a hurricane hit, whole bunch of bodies all up in my dome
The flunkies and the crash dummies be the first ones gone
He not a killer, it's the drugs
Turn a nigga block to a motherfucking rug
You can't hide in the city, we know every club
Slide on them bitches, they bloody and shitty
He got a hundred, he got a fifty
Run through boxes of bullets tryna fill up these titties
I might spin a block with him, then spin him, this shit get tricky
Long live the Demon, he gon' come back from the dead
I just pulled up to the bank, withdrawed some cash same price your head
Pull up on your block like I do locs and dye your dreads
I just caught a body-ody, four-five bullets thick like Meg
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
We don't give no fuck 'bout what they doing, so why they worried 'bout us?
Your mans was in the street, you wasn't gangster, on the curb hollering
You said you bust who head? Nigga, who dead? We ain't heard 'bout you
It's gon' be some shit coming behind that body, I'm droppin' turds 'bout em
I'm fuckin' this bitch and spreadin' them ass cheeks, that booty hole pink
Dick riding keep gettin' them niggas killed, I love when them hoes link
Blackout 'bout my bros, fuck around, get a darker skin color
I only ride with niggas that's tryna change your skin color
Yeah, bread on his head, tryna make a nigga wonder
Sent the nigga up to Zeus, he was out here playing with that thunder
When we pull up on them niggas, I'ma leave a fucking puddle
And if a nigga fold, that's out of my control, you know?
Long live the Demon, he gon' come back from the dead
I just pulled up to the bank, withdrawed some cash same price your head
Pull up on your block like I do locs and dye your dreads
I just caught a body-ody, four-five bullets thick like Meg
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Bread head, bread head, bread head, ayy (Bread head)
Writer(s): Saheem Valdery, Don Jarmel Paschall, Unknown Composer
