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Lyrics:

coffee and sour bread.
Pease River's as salty as hell fire, the water I could never go
Oh God, I wished I had never come to the range of the buffalo.
kid
Screamin' mother overhead two plates, one fork sour milk and a loaf of bread
But I shook it off smiled of course kid
My girl wildout on some
the blame

Your blood holds my Kingdom high
A kingdom built on fear and lies
So sour has this bread and wine become
For I am not a God, a martyr
block nigga never live

One room 7 kid, screamin' mother overhead two plates
One fork sour milk and a loaf of bread but I shook it off
Smiled of course
fear in you I smell
A fist to face is all fair game now
The pack attacking, the sacrificial
Pray for the prayers, oh

Reaping the sour seeds of death's
come we go down
Come we go down to Kingston market
Come we go down, come we go down
Down to Kingston market
Get your tamarind and sour sop,
Mangoes
Daddy I done fell from grace
After you done set the table

After the prayers said and we
Bowed our heads
Cooked the flour to make the bread
Smoke
man.
We've tasted sour grapes there's no more fucking bread to break.
Not the last man, just a wasteman.
Painting false effigies but one less fucking
blowing up my phone
I told that bitch I'd give her a thou-wow just to leave me alone
Pouring mud, smoking sour
I don't fuck with these niggas, they sour
pressure, oh
Coming from that dirt, now we big spenders (hey hey)
And you ain't with gang, you ain't no member
I sat back, watch that money turn you sour
ballers, hillside niggas

Get yer bread bounce yer head!
If you's obsessed withcha wealth and it
More carats than a bunny rabbit
Pop yo' collar one time
as it sours and sours
Screaming to the sky for answers
Hii power

Its like a seed in your soul
Thats eat you
It grows and gets stronger as it tries
fast)
Look at yo face yo lips sour ooh you mad (oh ooh you mad)
Baby real wet need jet skis (ooh)
Can't pull out got plan b (huh)
Imma young thug like
Broke another ten for the Bread Winner Brick Gang
Popping up pregnant, sIlly bitch tryna trick Gates
Start selling pussy, maybe that'll get your
he a hoe
Had the bread for my bro he pillow talking to these hoes
Tuck your chain now 'cause my shawty he on go
In the trenches pouring fours
the winner would be him
Oh, Scroogey loves his money 'cause he thinks it gives him power
If he became a flavor you can bet he would be sour
("Yucka", "Even
bad day, sunny day, rainy day
All he wanna know is is (where my money at?)
Closed legs don't get fed, go out there and make my bread
All he wanna
money at?)
Closed legs don't get fed, go out there and make my bread
All he wanna know is (where my money at?)
She ended up in a road car, bruised up,
at?)
Closed legs don't get fed, go out there and make my bread
All you wanna know is (where my money at?)
She ended up in a road car, bruised up,
me, I got all day nigga I ain't rushing
Overpaid, fuck a budget, I'm overdue, I ain't budgin'
I want my bread, fuck the muffins, without my cream, I'm
a bundle we break bread for the safe and flee nigga

[Chorus]

I got guns, guns, guns, guns
Guns all over the club
We in v.i.p. strapped, security know
On the ground, tryna be a gangsta (gangsta)
Nigga get bread with no fingers (fingers)
Boy Meets World, no Topanga (hey)
Got tried in the street and it change
and get your bread up
Cause when you're gettin' to it the people be gettin' fed up
They buildin' brand new jails for us, don't make your bed up
Use your
blows
I know I got, about 10 fucking minutes for the spot pops off time to reload
I know I got, about 12 fucking hours fore the plans run sour and we all

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