lirik lagu break bread – grown ass men
[scratch hook]
“let me tell ya something” – krs one ‘rappers r n danja’
“i just want to do my jams with fam and slam into some hypeness” – the artifacts ‘c’mon wit da git down’
“let me tell ya something”
“but biters and backstabbing rappers don’t even like us” – the artifacts ‘c’mon wit da git down’
[hook: john smith]
i ain’t a newjack to this, nah i’m through practicing
if the crews rapping kittle then move back a bit
grown -ss men in a game full of bad boys
keep my name out your mouth
and my face out the tabloids
[verse one: pip skid]
these times is as tough as a poor mans hands
in the hourgl-ss you know you ran under sands
abandon my plans, get a crib before i’m thirty
that sh-t ain’t happening when my lyrics stay dirty
and my face stays…
unmarketable
even that i wanna rap people think it’s remarkable
don’t want my photo beside a bottle of c0ke
just a pile of money so big it’ll make a whale choke
no joke i know i’ll never be rich
without an accident or having the lotto hit
oh sh-t
yeah, i think these numbers are mine
use my mom’s birthday to pick the 6-49
but i’m
not part of the media blitz
just hand over the novelty check and then i split
putting on the ritz, break bread familia
do our thing regardless of where they point the camera
i’m out
[verse two: mcenroe]
the canadian rap scene’s tony soprano
has been creating a vaccine for flowing like guano
so if you ask me, the key to success here
is not messing with bad beats and keeping your head clear
can’t conduct a think tank in a sh-t can
maybe send your pink slip on to back to being just fans
we can’t link, there’s a fundamental rift
as your hits inch forward like continental drift
we’re not on the same page, a big stage aim
like big game james, my name’s fall of fameing
and i’m out to get paid for production
no doubt what i put out is grade a construction
got drums as a function
the organ is tuning
those of us bumping, we be forming a union
known to a few and, the circle is growing
there’s no time for fuming on the foolish not knowing
[verse three: john smith]
smith and pip
gruf and yy
mcenroe and honeycutt those the f-cking guys
stuffed inside a minivan
cat napping and dogs up lamping in the cabin
either place we make it a habit
it beez that way, man made, it ain’t magic
and i can’t relate to fanatics
complaining, they think not being famous is tragic
do like pringles and stack chips
minus the handlebar and flying to kandahar
mingling plastic tanks with our troops
a full time crash event
give me loot, cash, respect, demanding the vet
plans in effect are we gambling? (yes!)
well that’s a risk i’m willing to take
like ice grilling jake
our sh-t’s k!lling these fakes
[hook]
[scratch hook]
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