BreadWinner

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NITEMxRE N A DRExMLxND

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BMW shit
You not with the clique
You is not with the gang
On top

We tryna get this money though
And we ain't gonna let nothing get in the way
Ain't nobody
You feel me

Where, where, where when the mafia
I'm getting to the money, boy, they ain't stopping us
You just like a drain, you clogged up
I ain't messing with you, boy, you washed up

Check, check, check another hit, watch the windows get fogged up
Better get the GPS cause you lost us
Tell them what happened to the last one crossed us
B-B-B-W-M, we turn them into log dust

Don't play no games
I don't really f*ck with you lames
Boy, boy, your shit too plain
I leave y'all sign to sign

Boy, you sound like a clone, never been the one to hate
Mother boy, you about to test your faith
Tell these bitches sorry for the wait
I'ma pass it out to Kevin Gates

Dirt all under my nails
Thumbin' through currency, mindset currently
Niggas don't worry me, white Panamera playing currency
Pussy niggas say they wanna murder me

Scene paper, steam haters
Beam laser, cream wafers
Spray one of mine for your fly
A lot of niggas living lies, I go hard, not a dream chaser

I had you, baby, king cake
You sliced all up on the king's table
Machines scrape you when your bricks about to land
Drop it when it's soft white, cook it in a tan

Spanning over pots while it's cooking in a pan
Looking for the grams, I can put them in your hand
Face card, face card, nigga got a face card
Chopping out a gray card, spitting with a eight

Or another mug with the drugs, now we got a race card
11-5 on the side, I ain't take a day off
11-5 on the side, I ain't take a day off
Breadwinner, guap, get a hustle for the pay off

Hit the trap, stay down, guess it kinda paid off
Griffin in the paint, I'mma bam on something
You thinking bout a slam, I was talking bout a Cutlass
Got it out the mud, everything push button

Nigga never gave nothing, now I'm coming through Staten
I don't f*ck with you
I don't f*ck with you
BMW, BMW

Breadwinner, when I pull up on her, got the head spinning
Yeah, yeah, yeah
BMW, Breadwinner
BMW, Breadwinner

BMW, Breadwinner
BMW, better check the murder rate
F*ck God, well, I'm bout to regulate
And you know, driving slow down the interstate

Let's go, bout to drop a murder tape
Yeah, yeah, so don't play with my shit
Little bitch, better not play with my clique
Better not play with my clique

I'm sick of all these motherfuckers talking, cause they ain't really talking about shit
Don't, don't play with your life
I get this money, I'm getting it right
If you run up, then you sacrificed

So don't ask me twice
I'm rolling the dice
I'm with the mafia, I'm with the gang
Breadwinner shit got you tucking your chain

Pull up on him and I bust his brain
I ain't leaving nothing but a motherfucking stain
Dang, dang
I don't f*ck with you

BMW, BMW
Breadwinner, when I pull up on her, got the head spinning
Yeah, yeah, yeah
BMW, Breadwinner

BMW, Breadwinner
BMW, Breadwinner
BMW
BMW

BMW

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