Juicy J – Baked Potato lyrics

[Intro]
Ayy, mane
Get that money, mane
Fuck that bitch, mane
You see what I'm sayin', mane?
You feel me, mane?
I got you, mane
Fuck with me mane, you know what I'm sayin'?
Pass that shit, mane
Yeah, mane

[Chorus]
Bread so old that it's molded (That it's molded)
Baked potato pockets, they loaded (They loaded)
I'm talked 'bout a nigga can't fold it (Can't fold it)
I throw the paper up, I can't hold it (Can't hold it)
Bread so old that it's molded (That it's molded)
Baked potato pockets, they loaded (They loaded)
I'm talked 'bout a nigga can't fold it (Can't fold it)
I throw the paper up, I can't hold it (Can't hold it)

[Verse 1]
Nigga, what you know about a million dollar play? (Play)
House so fuckin' big, hallways look like a maze (Maze)
I got to the money then got all my niggas paid
I'm too busy throwin' dollars to be out here throwin' shade (Nigga)
Whip the Rolls-Royce like that bitch a box Chevy, mane
If you ain't talkin' paper, then ain't nothing you can tell me (Ayy)
White chick, brand new ass, no belly (Ayy)
Bitch named Becky claim she don't give Becky (Ayy)
Well, bitch, get to steppin', I ain't with the games (Nah)
Cut from a different cloth, we are not the same (Stop lyin')
Heard them niggas yappin', disregard what they sayin'
I can go and buy a house and get your bodied with the change, why you playin', nigga?

[Chorus]
Bread so old that it's molded (That it's molded)
Baked potato pockets, they loaded (They loaded)
I'm talked 'bout a nigga can't fold it (Can't fold it)
I throw the paper up, I can't hold it (Can't hold it)
Bread so old that it's molded (That it's molded)
Baked potato pockets, they loaded (They loaded)
I'm talked 'bout a nigga can't fold it (Can't fold it)
I throw the paper up, I can't hold it (Can't hold it)

[Verse 2]
A nigga better chase this money like his life depend on it (On it)
Hustle like your kids and your wife depend on it (They need you)
Blue paper with a dead white man on it (President)
If you don't chase the money day and night, you don't want it (Wait)
You lookin' for a G, you got the right man (Right man)
I'ma fuck and leave her money on the nightstand, shit
Hotter than a motherfuckin' fryin' pan (Fryin' pan)
And my weed loud enough to be a hype man (Flavor Flav)
I got that loud by the acre, my house a couple of acres
I can see the city, but still can't see you haters (Haters)
One hell of a view, I been bringin' home the bacon
Whip white as sour cream, this that loaded baked potato, what you sayin'?

[Chorus]
Bread so old that it's molded (That it's molded)
Baked potato pockets, they loaded (They loaded)
I'm talked 'bout a nigga can't fold it (Can't fold it)
I throw the paper up, I can't hold it (Can't hold it)
Bread so old that it's molded (That it's molded)
Baked potato pockets, they loaded (They loaded)
I'm talked 'bout a nigga can't fold it (Can't fold it)
I throw the paper up, I can't hold it (Can't hold it)

[Outro]
Can't hold all that shit
You know what I'm sayin'?
I'ma tell all my young niggas, mane
Go for the check, mane
Fuck the other bullshit, bro, go for the check