Mozzy & CMG The Label – Broad Day Lyrics

Broad Day Lyrics by Mozzy & CMG The Label

[Intro: Rich Homie Quan]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Woah-woah (Woah)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah

[Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
It’s somethin’ ’bout them racks comin’ in, ’cause when they come, they make me walk straight, ooh (I be walkin’ like a pimp, nigga)
And we can’t go for no disrespect ’cause I might shoot a nigga broad day, yeah (I might hit him with this TEC, nigga)
We might act a fool in this school, we was trappin’ in the hallways, yeah (I know I made my teachers mad)
Told myself I’ma find me somebody who gon’ count this money all day (Woah)

[Post-Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
And we gon’ run it up, we gеttin’ it like—
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

[Verse 1: Mozzy]
Yeah, ridin’ ’round with this fully loaded
If it’s smokе like you insinuated, get up on us
Killas say the love me I’m from Killafornia
Got the verty lookin’ purty, ain’t no ceilin’ on ’em
Mansion in the tuck, couple million for ’em
We ain’t boardin’ flights with suckas without stealin’ on ’em
Doggy switched sides, but he still a homie
You can’t get inside this ride, this for killas only
Statement that you gave ’em wasn’t G at all
And yo’ autograph was on it, I done seen it all
Big brown Bloomey bags when I leave the mall
She ain’t talkin’ ’bout no chili, then you needa pause

[Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
It’s somethin’ ’bout them racks comin’ in, ’cause when they come, they make me walk straight, ooh (I be walkin’ like a pimp, nigga)
And we can’t go for no disrespect ’cause I might shoot a nigga broad day, yeah (I might hit him with this TEC, nigga)
We might act a fool in this school, we was trappin’ in the hallways, yeah (I know I made my teachers mad)
Told myself I’ma find me somebody who gon’ count this money all day (Woah)

[Post-Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
And we gon’ run it up, we gettin’ it like—
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

[Verse 2: Mozzy]
Yeah, my palms itchin’ rockin’ Palms Angel
Prolly end up in Solano for this hot potato
I’m a hour thirty minutes from this drop in Diego
Exotic pops be showin’ love, they sent the box of Faygo’s
Yeah, I seen a homie mix the sauce with K-Roll
They called him back to get some mo’ and gave that boy a halo
I’m a Northern Cali’ nigga, I ain’t from the Bay, though
Take you to 4th where I’ma joint and I got all the say so
I would love to hear you out, ain’t got the time of day, though
Finna pour a four for Skeem and pour a four for Fredo
Bail my brother out of jail and put him on the label
And he ain’t gotta sign nothin’, duckets on the table
[Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
It’s somethin’ ’bout them racks comin’ in, ’cause when they come, they make me walk straight, ooh (I be walkin’ like a pimp, nigga)
And we can’t go for no disrespect ’cause I might shoot a nigga broad day, yeah (I might hit him with this TEC, nigga)
We might act a fool in this school, we was trappin’ in the hallways, yeah (I know I made my teachers mad)
Told myself I’ma find me somebody who gon’ count this money all day (Woah)

[Post-Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
And we gon’ run it up, we gettin’ it like—
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

[Verse 3: Rich Homie Quan]
I don’t talk to 12, can’t let no cop in here (Nah, nigga)
You can’t get in the party you ain’t got no guap in here (Oh, hell nah)
Chopsticks in the kitchen, we might pop ’em here (We might find one)
I been payin’ a lotta taxes, makin five a year (Bitch, I’m sayin’)
I hope my baby mama don’t hear this song, dawg (I hope she don’t)
‘Cause she gon’ try to get another loan, dawg (Fuck in here)
Why my partner get indicted off a phone call? (Man, why he did?)
I’ma count that money, bae, shit, hold on (Hold up)
We been out so long, it’s time to go home (Home)
Bitch sayin’ that ’cause I was humble, boy, for so long (Like, what?)
I told her eat that shit up like a Cold Stone (Damn)
And I might have to let you know that
[Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
It’s somethin’ ’bout them racks comin’ in, ’cause when they come, they make me walk straight, ooh (I be walkin’ like a pimp, nigga)
And we can’t go for no disrespect ’cause I might shoot a nigga broad day, yeah (I might hit him with this TEC, nigga)
We might act a fool in this school, we was trappin’ in the hallways, yeah (I know I made my teachers mad)
Told myself I’ma find me somebody who gon’ count this money all day (Woah)

[Post-Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
And we gon’ run it up, we gettin’ it like—
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh