Letra de 'Brad Jordan (feat. Michael da Vinci)' de Isaiah Rashad

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Brad Jordan (feat. Michael da Vinci) é uma música de Isaiah Rashad cuja letra tem inúmeras buscas, por isso decidimos que ela merece seu lugar neste site, junto com muitas outras letras de músicas que os internautas desejam conhecer.

Yo, now it's just me, my nigga Mikey D, gettin' throwed
We was bangin' out some Master P, on the road
I prefer my word with platinum teeth, maybe gold
They don't like it when you come direct, well fuck, but Spottie bold
Tell them hoes they better come correct, 'cause I fuck
My momma told me we no 'ceptin' any memberships, no adding losses
I won't step up in your dealership until I'm flossin'
We no flexy with the funk, add a blessing to that punk
Damn, I got a son he on the way, but that's my baby
I've been spittin' like it's crack or some, like since the 80's
I was born I think in '91, that mean I'm chosen
When I slide back through your hood, bitch, just have a frozen, bitch

Yeah, Goddamn, feel like I'm Brad Jordan
Goddamn, my man, feel like I'm Brad Jordan
Scarface somethin', like I'm Brad Jordan
Feel like I'm the fuckin', feel like I'm Brad Jordan
Two dopeboys in a busted-ass rental
In Houston, OPM on them pussy ass niggas
Feel like I'm Brad, Jordan
Two dopeboys in a busted-ass rental

Now you would think I work from South Park, grindin', always makin' trouble
Grippin', on another level, mothafucka
I feel like droppin' classics, like the rucker
And rappers be too passive

It's just me, my brother Spottie, bitch, sit low
I've been drinkin' since my momma called, around 4
Niggas asking me too many questions, fuckin' throwed
Rob Da Vinci, Mike December we was losing, now we winnin'
Can I sport a couple in this? Play for bucks, that Brandon Jennings
Wear your crown and your pocket, or that shit'll come up missin'
You that nigga but the misses, eat a dick and mind ya business
This for all my Eastside niggas who be eating, do no sleeping
For their seedlin', never go to parties even if it is the weekend
And shout-out to the women who be faithful to their pimpin'
And shout-out to them haters who be all up in their feelins
And shout-out to my daddy, I'ma buy your ass a Bentley

Yeah, Goddamn, feel like I'm Brad Jordan
Goddamn, my man, feel like I'm Brad Jordan
Scarface somethin', like I'm Brad Jordan
Feel like I'm the fuckin', feel like I'm Brad Jordan
Two dopeboys in a busted-ass rental
In Houston, OPM on them pussy ass niggas
Feel like I'm Brad, Jordan
Two dopeboys in a busted-ass rental

Now you would think I work from South Park, grindin', always makin' trouble
Grippin', on another level, mothafucka
I feel like droppin' classics, like the rucker
And rappers be too passive

A bunch of bustas
I'm on everybody's asses, and this the notice
And I ain't even tryin', ho, did you notice?
And this the standard, uh fuckin' bogus, uh
You fuckin' rappers, uh, it's just me and my nigga Mike D
Two dopeboys in a busted-ass rental
In Houston, OPM on them pussy ass niggas
Two dopeboys in a busted-ass rental
In Houston, OPM on them pussy ass niggas

I swear
Lemme get a peach Faygo
Bring the muthafuckin' frozen through bitch, man I told you so
Ay yo, the peach, the peach, the peach and not in the, what they call it, the cans nigga
Not that can shit, not that can shit
Not the cans, I want a bottle nigga
Get the bottle from motherfuckin' right through the Wilcox Tunnel
Bring that bottle right through there
That peach kind? That peach kind
Tell that bitch to bring me a strawberry kiwi, bring me a mothafuckin' frozen
I need, I need one of those three for one bags of Flamin' Hot Cheetos
I prefer if you bought the popcorn
The popcorn, the popcorn
And if you can't bring the popcorn, bring the mothafuckin' hot fries
And if you can't bring the hot fires, go ahead and bust that five out
And bring me some Mapco chicken bitch
Yeah, slam dunk and some Mapco

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