Tonart: A major•
Verse 1
D
Got the bread bread, bread on the menu
It's all about my brick 45 bitch
You got the bread bread,
got the bread on the menu
A
D
A
Money call clothes the type of...
D
Got the bread bread, bread on the menu
A
Got the bread bread, bread on the menu
D
Got the bread bread, bread on the menu
Get your, get your own bread I
A
D
don't gotta call the...
Verse 2
D
You already know I walk up in the corner
A
D
store smelling like some dro'
Polo on my body got them Jordans on
my toe (retro)
I'm covered up in ice my chest is
A
D
twelve below (below)
Rolex on my wrist and I wear
it like a pro (fo sho)
Dm
D
I'm at the Rockets game
A
somewhere sittin' on the floor
D
I'm right behind the bench,
I don't even know the score
I'm leaning up the foe and I'm
A
bout to post some more.
D
I'm bout to hear the dreams
holla at the homie though
I'm ridin with G look and be
D
My mind on the paper so
my pocket full of dough
A
Till they put me in the grave
I'm a get it til I go.
Verse 3
bread bread, bread on the menu
It's all about my brick 45 bitch
Dm
D
You got the bread bread,
got the bread on the menu
Dm
A
Money call clothes the type of...
Dm
D
Got the bread bread, bread on the menu
A
Got the bread bread, bread on the menu
D
Got the bread bread, bread on the menu
A
Get your, get your own bread
I don't gotta call the...
Verse 4
clothes that
mean I keep protection
So much bread on me my
A
pockets got a yeast infection
D
I got that Wonder Bread,
Mrs. Baird's, Nature's Own,
And I ain't sharin shit bitch
D
Damn that's a lot of dough
yeah that Ciabatta ho.
I'm offering drinks with so much
ones liek guess a dollar store.
Dm
A
Dm
D
You got that funny money you boys comedians.
my money talk so God damn bad
A
D
It's disobedient. The root of all evil,
bread the sweetest sin.
Send me to hell, hand me my plate
A
bitch I'm gonna eat again.
I ain't cooking biscuits.
A
Got all my grub found out the size
of my bank account terrific.
Verse 5
Dm
D
Dm
bread bread, bread on the menu
D
Dm
A
It's all about my brick 45 bitch
Dm
D
You got the bread bread,
got the bread on the menu
A
Money call clothes the type of...
D
Dm
Got the bread bread,
D
Dm
D
bread on the menu
A
Got the bread bread, bread on the menu
D
Got the bread bread, bread on the menu
A
Get your, get your own bread I
don't gotta call the...
Verse 6
Dm
My mind on my paper,
A trill talk speaker and I speak it
Dm
A
D
through ya speakers
Swisher full of reefer and a
bottle full of sleepers.
I'll talk ya out ya money,
A
I could've been a preacher
D
The truth can't get deep
but lies run deeper
Dm
D
So my pistol on my waste by my
Dm
A
D
belt like a beeper.
Dm
Posted on a block somethin'
My frontin money old,
A
like them wild margaritas.
D
Dm
A
D
I got a lot yards you come by the meter.
A
I got a lot of drink and I pour by the liter.
D
I gotta lot of hustles and
I'm a grind all day 'til
A
I meet the Grim Reaper.
Verse 7
Dm
bread bread, bread on the menu
D
It's all about my brick 45 bitch
Dm
D
You got the bread bread,
Dm
got the bread on the menu
A
Money call clothes the type of...
Dm
D
Got the bread bread,
Dm
D
bread on the menu
D
A
Got the bread bread, bread on the menu
D
Got the bread bread, bread on the menu
Dm
D
Get your, get your own bread
A
I don't gotta call the...
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