Brad Jordan

(album: Cilvia Demo - 2014)

[Verse 1: Isaiah Rashad]
Now it's just me, my nigga Mikey D, getting throwed
We was banging out some Masta 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 'cepting any memberships, no adding losses
I won't step up in your dealership until I'm flossing
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 spitting 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

[Hook]
Yeah, Goddamn, feel like I'm Brad Jordan
Goddamn, I'm in, feel like I'm Brad Jordan
Scarface something, like I'm Brad Jordan
Feel like I'm the fucking, 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

[Bridge: Isaiah Rashad]
Now you would think I work from South Park, grinding, always making trouble
Gripping, on another level, mothafucka
I feel like dropping classics, like the rucker
And rappers be too passive

[Verse 2: Michael Da Vinci]
It's just me, my brother Spottie, bitch, sit low
I've been drinking since my momma called, around 4
Niggas asking me too many questions, fucking throwed
Ride Da Vinci, Mike, December we was losing, now we winning
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 missing
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 seedling, never go to parties even if it is the weekend
Shout-out to the women who be faithful to their pimping
And shout-out to them haters who be all up in their feelins
And shout-out to my daddy, I'mma buy your ass a Bentley

[Hook]

[Bridge]

[Outro: Isaiah Rashad]
A bunch of bustas
I'm on everybody's asses, and this the notice
And I ain't even trying, ho, did you notice?
And this the standard, fucking bogus
You fucking rappers