lirik lagu bread n money / shooters – munna duke
[intro]
pull the trigger, shoot and die, on the floor (on the floor)
you can’t get up, you can’t hide anymore (anymore)
shoutout 808 melo
pull the trigger, shoot and die, on the floor (on the floor)
you can’t get up, you can’t hide anymore (anymore)
[chorus]
get the bread, the money, like h**rders (uh*huh)
i’m with my shooters (b*tch)
four cars deep, we rovers (skrr)
ain’t doin’ no losin’ (nah)
hit ’em six, seven, eight, nine, ten times (bah)
’cause he was snoozin’ (b*tch)
b*tch on my d*ck she choosin’ (uh*huh)
see a n*gga rich off music (on gang)
amiri jeans i stuff ’em (huh?)
this sh*t ain’t nun’ (ain’t nun’)
glock to his head, lеave his sh*t like a pumpkin
put 21 in his back like dumbin’ (b*tch)
b*tch comе here, don’t do no runnin’
make her eat d*ck, then i put it in her tummy
went ten rounds off the x and hunnid’
got real nut just like j munna (j munna)
[verse]
pull up, shoot like kobe bryant (huh?)
ice on my wrist, that’s perfect time (loaded)
switch on a glock, that’s a different kind
don’t got a .50, you ain’t one of mine (nah)
post on the block where the shooters be
deep in the field, either you or me
three time one, that equals three
when i catch, i’ma do it like it’s two of me
i’m on go, no break line, i came up off of nicks’ and dimes
give it to me, how the plugs sent it, i don’t need no n*gga tryna’ cut mine
lil’ fo’ with me he got gas, if i tell lil’ bro go blist his ass
n*ggas gettin’ they chain took, ain’t no n*gga go gettin’ no pass (uh*uh)
if you in them trenches with me, i promise we gon’ get the bag (uh*huh)
ain’t nun’ of mine comin’ up short, i guarantee i bent my last
i could go back to trap, and whip that d, no covid mask (nah)
no b*tch n*gga get in my way, will line him up, will blast his ass (b*tch)
[chorus]
get the bread, the money, like h**rders (huh?)
i’m with my shooters (b*tch)
four cars deep, we rovers (uh*huh)
ain’t doin’ no losin’ (nah)
hit ’em six, seven, eight, nine, ten times (bah)
’cause he was snoozin’ (b*tch)
b*tch on my d*ck she choosin’ (uh*huh)
see a n*gga rich off music (on gang)
amiri jeans i stuff ’em (uh*huh)
this sh*t ain’t nun’ (ain’t nun’)
glock to his head, leave his sh*t like a pumpkin (bah)
put 21 in his back like dumbin’ (bah)
b*tch come here, don’t do no runnin’
make her eat d*ck, then i put it in her tummy
went ten rounds off the x and hunnid’
got real nut just like j munna (j munna)
[outro]
pull the trigger, shoot and*
hide anymore (anymore)
pull the trigger, shoot and*
hide anymore (anymore)
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