Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bread on Ya Head, artist - Marco Polo. Album song The Exxecution, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 22.03.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Duck Down
Song language: English
Bread on Ya Head |
Man 1: Kill him! |
Man 2: How much is it worth? |
Man 1: Anything! |
Hundred grand! |
Two hundred! |
Alright, five! |
Man 2: Truth is, I liked my work, I would’ve done it for nothin' |
Warrior — Conqueror |
The victorious — VIC, I’m BK glorious |
Back! |
— to settle the score |
Big metal .44 — Above and beyond the law |
Carnivore, T-Rex — dinosaur |
Reptile, climby, slimy, grimy, raw |
My actions speak louder than words on the record |
Shit that can’t be heard on the record |
I violate through ya at a higher rate |
Started in my borough, then bled the entire state |
Illest epidemic ever to be airborne |
Crazy ups, I can slam with my on |
Top notch jam still in form |
Got some years on, now I put my on |
So play the background close little buster |
Pull out the toast and make a roast, motherfucker |
Goons on deck! |
(deck!) |
Buck! |
— when they catch you for thirty G’s |
They don’t give a fuck where they stretch |
It’s a bounty on ya head for bread — I put the hit out! |
It’s a bounty on ya head, you dead — I put the hit out! |
Yo — I said I don’t punch lines, I knock bars the fuck out |
Types frighting, like lightning struck out |
Drop one LP, they callin' me the GOAT |
Judge threw the book at me from the murder I wrote |
And the further I boast, it gets deeper than rap |
Spit ether on track, to put my streets on the map |
Put my streets on the map, to give the children a chance |
To make it out the hood, come back — build and advance |
It’s the God, Hip Hop has risen from the dead |
I know you can’t see it, put the vision in your head |
I’m accurate, nice precision with the lead |
Immaculate — I’m in the kitchen bakin' bread |
My nigga Sean P, my nigga big Rock |
Juxx, Smiff-N-Wessun and the homie Buckshot |
We form like Voltron, choppin' ya dome off |
Broad day, lettin' the chrome off (brah-brah) |
Goons on deck! |
(deck!) |
Buck! |
— when they catch you for thirty G’s |
They don’t give a fuck where they stretch |
It’s a bounty on ya head for bread — I put the hit out! |
It’s a bounty on ya head, you dead — I put the hit out! |
I got shots for them niggas in the front (front) |
Them niggas in the back (back) |
Them niggas in the middle layin' flat |
How the fuck you sellin' that crack |
Yellin' that’s rap, nigga i’mma put a shell in that cap |
I’m the greatest of the great (of the great) |
You can’t get on my level, you a lower like the fakest of the fake |
Yeah — shit that I create, they called masterpieces |
Sort of like the master’s thesis |
I’m destined to prevail, that’s why I inhale the piff |
Never does it cease to uplift |
Slumdog Millionaire, rags to riches |
Green stacks, made backs plaques and bitches |
Goons on deck! |
Buck! |
— when they catch you for thirty G’s |
They don’t give a fuck where they stretch |
It’s a bounty on ya head for bread — I put the hit out! |
It’s a bounty on ya head, you dead — I put the hit out! |