It's Ya Boy, Joey Bread

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Joey Bread

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It's ya boy, Joey Bread, get my name right
Eating pasta and pussy in the same night
This ain't Drake vs. Pusha, that shit's rap light
I could run the whole game, and I just might

It's ya boy, Joey Bread, running game and spitting bars
I keep it one step ahead, y'all stuck in line outside the bar
Y'all crusing on Bird scooters I'm using Uber black cars
Everyday a holiday, I barbecue in the backyard
Brats, burgers and kabobs, man
Got enough meat to feed Action Bronson
Joey Bread and your old man doing father-son bonding
Call me Mr. Steal-Yo-Dad, he wishing he had worn a condom
My lyrics are serious this ain't a joke, bro
Joey bread saving dough, ain't about no free smoke, yo
Balling on a budget, and I can't even make a free throw
But my flow solid all these other rappers see-through
Everyone I meet's like "Joey Bread, can I be you?"
Every girl in my phone's like "Joey Bread, can I see you?"
Can't you see it ain't that easy for a rapper to just please you
But the least that I can do is make a beat for you to leave to

It's ya boy, Joey Bread, get my name right
Eating pasta and pussy in the same night
This ain't Drake vs. Pusha, that shit's rap light
I could run the whole game, and I just might
It's ya boy, Joey Bread, get my name right
Eating pasta and pussy in the same night
I don't play, but I put it on the stage like
Joey Bread vs. the world that's a fair fight

Titties in my face at the strip club
I admire them respectfully but don't touch
I mean of course I like her sexually but don't love
The way she's charging me this money for a boner
We gotta meet the drink minimum but we ain't goin' over
We pre-gamed substantially so we ain't goin' sober
This girl call me baby even though I barely know her
But she won't give me her heart because she's not an organ donor
And the haters underestimate
This buffet, it's great, I'm getting eighths, and I still clean my plate
I love myself, that's why I masturbate
This the real Joey Bread; I put the mask away 
The hip-hop lifestyle ain't for the faint-of-heart
Wake up in the morning like the night tore my brain apart
Your chick took the train home, but the throbbing pain did not
Joey Bread one hundo P; I ain't here to play the part

It's ya boy, Joey Bread, get my name right
Eating pasta and pussy in the same night
This ain't Drake vs. Pusha, that shit's rap light
I could run the whole game, and I just might
It's ya boy, Joey Bread, get my name right
Eating pasta and pussy in the same night
I don't play, but I put it on the stage like
Joey Bread vs. the world that's a fair fight

Queen City represent
Didn't budget for Bojangles, shit it really made a dent
I'm a fiend for the scent
All the real ones know what I meant 
But y'all don't know where I'm at; y'all didn't know I could act 
I'm a presenter at the Asscers I make that ass clap 
Imma pack it in a ziplock bag in my backpack so
I can have that booty for a snack

It's ya boy, Joey Bread, get my name right
Eating pasta and pussy in the same night
This ain't Drake vs. Pusha, that shit's rap light
I could run the whole game, and I just might
It's ya boy, Joey Bread, get my name right
Eating pasta and pussy in the same night
I don't play, but I put it on the stage like
Joey Bread vs. the world that's a fair fight

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