Get That Bread - Cassidy

Yeah, the huslta'

Philly!

Larsiny Family

(Apply Pressure)

I get that bread boy

I’m a hustla for real

I get that bread boy

I’m worth a couple a mil

I get that bread boy

So f*ck how you feel.

I ain’t broke I sell coke and got a couple a deals

I get that bread boy

Yeah I’m a hustla for real

I get that bread boy

I’m worth a couple a mil

I get that bread boy

So f*ck how you feel.

to get rich I hit the strip like what the f*ck is the deal

When I pop the shotty, it got kick but it’s not karate

And when I snap you take shots like, I’m like paparazzi

I’m from philly, yo my city it’s a lotta bodies

They murdaa like Irv Gotti they kamikaze

Doin music is my life yo it’s not a hobbie

I fell in love with hip-hop when I heard Loddy Doddy

I’m like, I prolly could spit it and get money too

Cause I’m slick like Rick and I’m fresh like Dougie too

I’m not a dummy, never did what the dummies do

So I had the mil to burn 'fore I turned 22

I just threw the Mazzaratti on 22, inches

Cause just off interest my money grew

I just turned 26, but I act my age

I took care of all my bills, all my tax is paid

I ain’t a killa but I will the rachet blades

I grab ya toasta and smoke ya like a bag a haze

You don’t behave like a gangsta, you artificial

I spit like a colla co?, you a starta pistol

It ain’t hard to diss you, I gotta lot to say like

Acki wack, acki a rat, acki gay

But what chu got to say, I’m killin the game

My flow dope, this how da needle feel in ya vein

I spit a dope 16 and you a dope fiend

Straight comatose, you would prolly overdose

You could tell when I was younger hung around the older folks

I’m the illest rapper, it don’t matter who sold the most

Life short but it ain’t over folks

That’s why every day I pray to the father, son, and the holy ghost

Yeah I sold the coke, call me saint Nicholas

Cause on the strip I run through snow like it’s christmas

But chu ain’t never flip a brick, you a hypocrite

Chicks on my dick cause I’m young, pretty, and rich as shit

I grabbed 4 and a half then I flipped this shit

Now I’m a supplier like Merlo on the wire

You not a trappa, you a pathological liar

Get eat till ya teeth pull out with a pair of pliers

Yeah I’m fire but chu can’t throw water on me

That’s why ya wife and ya daughter on me

I got change, but it ain’t dimes, nickels, and quarters on me

I got real cake, but chall niggas real fake

Even though I’m real great, I still feel hate

I might not got a grammy yet, but I’m still straight

Cause I’m still in the hood so I feel good

And I don’t need security for me to feel safe

I straight wish that I could make all you dudes that’s takin up space go take

my homies in jail place

I call weed that I sell great

It’s sticky weed, with no sticks, no seeds, and it smell great

And I ain’t tryna have a cell mate

But I’m grindin cause time money

I ain’t tryna be to hell late… EARLY

I get that bread boy

I’m a hustla for real

I get that bread boy

I’m worth a couple a mil

I get that bread boy

So f*ck how you feel.

I ain’t broke I sell coke and got a couple a deals

I get that bread boy

Yeah I’m a hustla for real

I get that bread boy

I’m worth a couple a mil

I get that bread boy

So f*ck how you feel.

to get rich I hit the strip like what the f*ck is the deal

I get that bread boy