Ooh (Ooh)
Keith Sweat
I keep sweating
I keep bread and
If you really, really want it
All you gotta do is
Get up on your cash
Love somebody before the world cracks
Trust your body, let it flow like Slacks
And the body be the title of his 33rd track
For 33 years Christ was rivaled and attacked
Because he took a loaf of bread and made it spread out in stacks
So, I've broken bread with him since I was gawking at racks
And taking bread from within stores, I'm f*cking Alladin
When I feel like inbred, wonderbread, I imagine
Southern states my butter, when my blood's more Italian
I should move up North and go invest in a cabin
Or maybe out West and be the best kid rapping
I ain't going to rest until my waves get Kraken
I don't feel love too much these days
I don't feel much, no rush these days
She don't feel nothing but a clutch these days
We don't all feel enough to give a f*ck these days
If you really want it, gotta hop on it
If you really on it, gotta drop sonics
If you really on it, gotta drop wax
Drop stacks, then drive back with the facts on them
If you really want it, gotta hop on it
If you really on it, gotta drop sonics
If you really on it, gotta drop wax
Drop stacks, then drive back with the facts on them
Dough boy, homie, got the bread
He ain't funny, though, he don't sweat
Don't play with money or he's going to flex
Don't play his money beause he shoot Tec's
Profit motive never neck-and-neck
The competition is dead and left
The opposition is never met
The proposition is debt or net
When the bread rise we can finally eat
Been starving with the fam, might need me a feast
But gluttony is to wealth, like bread and yeast
Get too hungry and it leaves us all deceased
Damn, I haven't eaten in about 3 weeks
Need a paycheck to make music work at least
Do free features, consider that a treat
I'm on a roll like Hawaiian, you know I'm sweet
What money mean to me? Ha, homie, please
It's the root of all evil, it is a disease
But quick I gotta count it up at the ATM
With J. Cole money we'll see how you hate me then
Whoa, we always quick to jump on trends
If I had some dough I could make some friends
You fake it until you make it, but bro, I don't pretend
I'm as real now as I was back then
Keep this food for thought, never leave crumbs
Count your dollars, and determine the sum
Is it worth more than your life and fun?
Or does it actually make you numb?
To all the pain
To all the pain that your mind brings, brings
Jamie Slacks - Bread (feat. Rumorz) Lyrics
Jamie Slacks - Bread (feat. Rumorz) Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Ooh (Ooh)
Keith Sweat
I keep sweating
I keep bread and
If you really, really want it
All you gotta do is
Get up on your cash
Love somebody before the world cracks
Trust your body, let it flow like Slacks
And the body be the title of his 33rd track
For 33 years Christ was rivaled and attacked
Because he took a loaf of bread and made it spread out in stacks
So, I've broken bread with him since I was gawking at racks
And taking bread from within stores, I'm f*cking Alladin
When I feel like inbred, wonderbread, I imagine
Southern states my butter, when my blood's more Italian
I should move up North and go invest in a cabin
Or maybe out West and be the best kid rapping
I ain't going to rest until my waves get Kraken
I don't feel love too much these days
I don't feel much, no rush these days
She don't feel nothing but a clutch these days
We don't all feel enough to give a f*ck these days
If you really want it, gotta hop on it
If you really on it, gotta drop sonics
If you really on it, gotta drop wax
Drop stacks, then drive back with the facts on them
If you really want it, gotta hop on it
If you really on it, gotta drop sonics
If you really on it, gotta drop wax
Drop stacks, then drive back with the facts on them
Dough boy, homie, got the bread
He ain't funny, though, he don't sweat
Don't play with money or he's going to flex
Don't play his money beause he shoot Tec's
Profit motive never neck-and-neck
The competition is dead and left
The opposition is never met
The proposition is debt or net
When the bread rise we can finally eat
Been starving with the fam, might need me a feast
But gluttony is to wealth, like bread and yeast
Get too hungry and it leaves us all deceased
Damn, I haven't eaten in about 3 weeks
Need a paycheck to make music work at least
Do free features, consider that a treat
I'm on a roll like Hawaiian, you know I'm sweet
What money mean to me? Ha, homie, please
It's the root of all evil, it is a disease
But quick I gotta count it up at the ATM
With J. Cole money we'll see how you hate me then
Whoa, we always quick to jump on trends
If I had some dough I could make some friends
You fake it until you make it, but bro, I don't pretend
I'm as real now as I was back then
Keep this food for thought, never leave crumbs
Count your dollars, and determine the sum
Is it worth more than your life and fun?
Or does it actually make you numb?
To all the pain
To all the pain that your mind brings, brings
Keith Sweat
I keep sweating
I keep bread and
If you really, really want it
All you gotta do is
Get up on your cash
Love somebody before the world cracks
Trust your body, let it flow like Slacks
And the body be the title of his 33rd track
For 33 years Christ was rivaled and attacked
Because he took a loaf of bread and made it spread out in stacks
So, I've broken bread with him since I was gawking at racks
And taking bread from within stores, I'm f*cking Alladin
When I feel like inbred, wonderbread, I imagine
Southern states my butter, when my blood's more Italian
I should move up North and go invest in a cabin
Or maybe out West and be the best kid rapping
I ain't going to rest until my waves get Kraken
I don't feel love too much these days
I don't feel much, no rush these days
She don't feel nothing but a clutch these days
We don't all feel enough to give a f*ck these days
If you really want it, gotta hop on it
If you really on it, gotta drop sonics
If you really on it, gotta drop wax
Drop stacks, then drive back with the facts on them
If you really want it, gotta hop on it
If you really on it, gotta drop sonics
If you really on it, gotta drop wax
Drop stacks, then drive back with the facts on them
Dough boy, homie, got the bread
He ain't funny, though, he don't sweat
Don't play with money or he's going to flex
Don't play his money beause he shoot Tec's
Profit motive never neck-and-neck
The competition is dead and left
The opposition is never met
The proposition is debt or net
When the bread rise we can finally eat
Been starving with the fam, might need me a feast
But gluttony is to wealth, like bread and yeast
Get too hungry and it leaves us all deceased
Damn, I haven't eaten in about 3 weeks
Need a paycheck to make music work at least
Do free features, consider that a treat
I'm on a roll like Hawaiian, you know I'm sweet
What money mean to me? Ha, homie, please
It's the root of all evil, it is a disease
But quick I gotta count it up at the ATM
With J. Cole money we'll see how you hate me then
Whoa, we always quick to jump on trends
If I had some dough I could make some friends
You fake it until you make it, but bro, I don't pretend
I'm as real now as I was back then
Keep this food for thought, never leave crumbs
Count your dollars, and determine the sum
Is it worth more than your life and fun?
Or does it actually make you numb?
To all the pain
To all the pain that your mind brings, brings
Writer: James Moynihan IV, Jamie Slacks
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid