Letra de ' Big Bruddah (Don't Be Mad) ' de Kevin Gates

Commission Private
Bring me in front of the boys for this one
They better gon' be mad
Major League, Puerto Rico, LA
There's a lot of them
Tell them, please don't be mad

Took what I had, left me for dead
Until I had to be finished
Came back with a Benz, it's cocaine, Bentley
Emerald cup, platinum, I did it
Diamonds twinkle, if it don't glisten

You did not get it from me
Cop drop, red interior
Yellow counter, turbo is the issue

Arch your back, wipe that ass, gloss it over
Flat-footed, lean forward, poke it out and over
Left cheek, right cheek, slowly, bend it over
Had a stress for data, they don't wanna focus on it

Baby, some of that motivation, captivate my focus
Arch your back, wipe that ass, gloss it over
Flat-footed, lean forward, poke it out and over
Left cheek, right cheek, slowly, bend it over
Had a stress for data, they don't wanna focus on it

She eat that dick off the bone, that shit real official
Sacrifices I made for niggas will probably never get mentioned
Let's get straight and then complain like we in competition
Women be more grateful, I seen gangsters turn to bitches

I thought as men we hold our own dick when we was pissing
I play the game like Killer Stone, swear to God I miss him
Bitch, I feel like Alvin Nelson when I'm in the trenches
Rocking fitteds, hop out solo with my jewelry glistening

Shout out Ox, Uptown, Busy, Booby, Black, and Menace'n
Quiet as kept, they say I'm Emilio, control the district
Who want them chickens? Grab a flock, you get a lower ticket
Hit my trap girl forwards, come and get it

Arch your back, wipe that ass, boss it off
Flat-footed, lean forward, poke it out and throw it
Left cheek, right cheek, slowly, bend it over
Had a stress for data, they don't wanna focus on it
Bae, some of that motivation, captivate my focus
Arch your back, wipe that ass, boss it off
Flat-footed, lean forward, poke it out and throw it
Left cheek, right cheek, slowly, bend it over
Had a stress for data, they don't wanna focus on it

Meet me by the shop, the eagles dropping in fifteen minutes
Hit my jacket, he pick up, he like: What up, lil' nigga?
You by the shop? He like: Yeah, I'm just chilling
Open the fence, look the garage, I'm about to pull up in it

He checked the camera when I land and meet me outside with it
Park the Porsche by the Lambo truck, right on side the Bentley
Jump in the Honda, I be solo when I handle business
Secret rooms, money counters, metal boxes, blenders

Floor safes, buco blickers, quick with drums and switches
Secret compartments, ten apartments, money to the ceiling
Reefer trailers, track the trailers, back of 18-wheelers
Decent mechanics and logistics for the trucking business

Immigrant construction workers, new construction business
I just built a house in Texas with a tunnel in it
Puedo ir a México from the tunnel entrance
You don't speak Spanish? Make it closer, you can comprehend it

I can go to México from the tunnel entrance
Lil' bitty bitch can't hurt my feelings, I got tunnel vision
All that shit I said, big brother probably wanna kill me
He say I talk too reckless in a song, I'm too descriptive

You niggas outdated, still trapping out of rentals
I'm a general for real, nigga, get up with me
Damn, they guarantee that every shipment get delivered
That's the old way, we don't put 'em in the vendor

I got the new way and I can get up in there with it
I can get up in there with it
Fuck, I had to turn off, babe, bitch, ayy, get in now!