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lirik lagu bread baka – san quinn

[intro: jt the bigga figga & devo tha commissioner]
ay what’s up jt?
oh what’s goin’ on with young devo?
man i’m out here tryna get some money in my pockets man
is that right? is that right? what’s up with the rest of the gamblaz?
yeah man we waitin’ on the day man we all waitin’ on you pick us up
oh you tryna get in the lab huh? okay
sh*t we… i’m just workin’ on this quinn right now
we finna be finnishin’ him up by the next few days
yo you on this thing like the intro just be ready for that 457 cake know i’m sayin? 457 the code g*l*p know i’m sayin?
you all good baby, touch base with…

[verse 1: san quinn]
every thing movin’ fast when yo’ mind on the cash
gotta last to survive stack stash safe path, fold the paper in hands in yo pants pockets
never knockin’ hustles, when you makin’ profit
workin’ nine to five or a nine to nine on the grind for the grittin
searchin’ for the perfect position
early worm gets the worm, took me no time to learn
up in the mornin’ with a yawn and a stretch goin on a quest
with t*shirts and tapes in early mornin traffic on the freeway
feelin’ uneasay
time being wasted in dollas in the amist
havin patience but havin a grip i can’t resist
the crisp bills, some people k!ll behind
[?] was designed but i gots to have mine
people gettin’ paid as i speed, every second counts
in an effort to bounce, i’m on the streets you behind the desk
under a car makin arrest, makin a call twentyfour hours a day
just to get some pay, it’s all for the money, can’t be bummy, gotta be fresh rainy or sunny, but it’s never time to parlay
time is money

[chorus: levitti]
bread i need it in my hands, the pockets in my pants
don’t waste my dimes, ’cause times is hard enough to laugh
bread i need it in my hands, the pockets in my pants
don’t waste my dimes, ’cause times is hard enough to laugh

[verse 2: san quinn]
vegas with the fet low playa discussin strong oppinions
about our way of livin’ would i k!ll for a million?
i’d rather make my own, for a few g’s cats bring it on at yo’ dome
sendin’ home, i’m a at work daddy, in a [?] hoochie
[?] ******while he missin’ money
doin’ time, pursuin’ the life of crime is likely for me
overwhelmed by the side of g’s must have some of these
so we can place and see, already they should see the chase begin
anxiously with plans to get paper in my hand
what we all after, no matter what race
the chase for papes takes flakes all day
financial stabilty, to the lab a luxury
barely gettin’ by or down and dirty hustlin’
it must go down, or be the object of ridicule
while we sittin cool, evadin’ fools with revenues

[post*chorus: levitti]
just to make some real dough
gotta get a dollar from everywhere
i’m tired of being broke
i need some bread oh yeah

[verse 3: san quinn]
people don’t let money change you, keep ya game true
remember all ya folks that came through and helped you
when odds was against you, they fonked they defend you
we been throuh it all, thick and the tall
dividends in brokeness, livin’ the life of rokers
k!llers and smokers, ballers and women, riches is all our vision
no different, with twenty grand in my palm
[?]**********as for mines, all of mines
i still reside on gangsta grove
see the player chose choosin money over foes
no hesitation oppose the paper chasin’ get blowed
up off the map with more than raps only the ghetto knows
i got feelin’s bad, and even worse about the earth
seein’ destruction without me seein’ sumthin’
discussion is cheap, action is deep as the pacific
i’m after these g’s while time keeps tickin’
and minds keep slippin’ but i keep stackin’
to be a economic [?] power pushin at the platinum
pusin’ at the platinum, on g*o*d you count on me i finna make it happen

- san quinn

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