[Intro]
(Izze The Producer)
Uh-huh
Ayy, what up?
It’s Dolph
I do this shit for real, my n***a

[Verse 1]
That two-seater, fully loaded (Skrrt)
This Swisher Sweet, fully loaded (Damn)
This wrist piece, fully loaded
So this four five, fully loaded (Baow)
Them young n***as, I can’t control 'em
Pull up with a thirty thousand dollar motor
Eyes low, 'cause I'm never sober, 'cause I’m a mud drinker and a strong smoker
Got a little bitch that get money out pure passion and strokers
My old head n***a said, “You get too much money, young n***a stay focused!”
Had an out of state plug when I was nineteen n***a, so I ain’t ever been local
Jumped in this rap game, spent a little bit of change, brought the streets with me, now it’s time to take over!
That’s that Paper Route Empire shit
Got a white girl that like to twerk, and she on that Miley Cyrus shit
Don’t need no pen, don’t need no paper
Just give me a track, and I’ll demolish it
I’m on the other side of the country, with fifty Ps in my closet, bitch!

[Chorus]
I have the bread in the house
In the bed, in the couch (Ayy)
I came up with a multi-million dollar plan at the house (Word)
I don't trust these hoes, so I don’t get head at the house (Hell no)
I just woke up out a nightmare, fucking feds ran in the house
Press up CDs at the house, weighing Ps at the house (Yup, yup)
Hell nah, I ain’t never had no keys at the house
Lotta pistols, a hundred thousand dollar wardrobe at the house (Hey)
Fresh as fuck and strapped up, every time I leave the house (Uh-huh)
[Verse 2]
I got no cable at the house, just plenty paper at the house
I ain’t talking hoes when I say I got flavors at the house
Stack my paper to the ceiling, went and bought mama a house
Said, “Mama, do me a favor, and keep yo ass up out the South.”
Now mama waving at her white neighbors, just chillin at the house
But daddy just like me, that n***a still running in and out
What you doing in the hood dad? “Young n***a watch your mouth”
My mama just called me tipsy, say she brought me in and she’ll take me out (What?)
Godamn, what the fuck? Yeah I’m still dealin' with this
Daddy just like me, south Memphis n***a, that’s real n***a shit (It's Dolph)
Hood n***a run through a couple hundred bands while I’m eating on a box of Popeyes
I’m connected like Wi-Fi
N***a that’s why

[Chorus]
I have the bread in the house
In the bed, in the couch (Ayy)
I came up with a multi-million dollar plan at the house (Word)
I don't trust these hoes, so I don’t get head at the house (Hell no)
I just woke up out a nightmare, fucking feds ran in the house
Press up CDs at the house, weighing Ps at the house (Yup, yup)
Hell nah, I ain’t never had no keys at the house
Lotta pistols, a hundred thousand dollar wardrobe at the house (Hey)
Fresh as fuck and strapped up, every time I leave the house (Uh-huh)