A comedy rap song about two brothers: one’s a baker but he makes no dough, one’s an undertaker and he makes much mo’, fo’ sho’.

 

Lyrics below:

 

Sibling rivalry

Happens worldwide, universally

Wiping brotherly love from a family

And certainly, I got it going on pretty personally

I got a brother: he’s got a bakery

He’s got the least east yeast-feast eaterie (he’s in the west)

He’s competitive, he’s jealous of me

He’s convinced that our mama used to favour me

We always used to struggle financially

So he opened up a big boulangerie

 

Let’s roll in roll in roll in roll in, what

He’s making rolls and rolls with raisins

 

I’m not a fake! I like to wake and bake.

Bread? I make. I also make cake.

I mix the flour and the yeast to taste

I take an egg, and smash it on my face

I’m not a racist, I make both white and brown

I’ll even make a half-half loaf (spread the love around!)

But what’s that sound?

The banker’s in town, and I’m in a spot of trouble

‘Cos I owe him a pound, or a thousand

That’s a lot of bread for a baker

My brother lives a good life: he’s an undertaker

 

I’m a baker but I make no dough

I’m an undertaker and I make much mo’, fo’ sho’

Every day, I’m baking bread!

At the end of the day, I ain’t earned no bread at all!

I don’t manufacture, pannini or focaccia

I provide a service that you’re gonna need I betcha

We both slave away to get paid!

We both work hard but his grain don’t make the same…

 

I got to face depressing economic recession

What’s more depressing than a funeral procession?

You put bodies in the oven, and make a lot of dough

I make a lot of dough, but my balance stays low, you lucky bastard

Hey, you’re doing what you chose to!

People need loaves, so I gotta knead loads, too

You turn a blind eye to the need for my job, you rye snob

What’s a rye snob?

I know more than a man who’s got 200 degrees

But my daily life is pre-heat: 200 degrees

And when was the last time that something rose from the dead?

I add yeast, and it rises to make bread, but it’s like I said…

 

I’m a baker but I make no dough

I’m an undertaker and I make much mo’, fo’ sho’

Every day, I’m baking bread!

At the end of the day, I ain’t earned no bread at all!

I don’t manufacture, pannini or focaccia

I provide a service that you’re gonna need I betcha

Wholemeal? I make enough for 10 whole meals

But I gotta offer them at half-price deals

From 9 to 5, I’m burying the dead

From 5 to 9, I’m baking bread, woah!

We both slave away to get paid!

We both work hard but his grain don’t make the same…

 

I know I only get a pound for a full bread basket

While he gets a grand, for the buffet and a casket

But still: how is his life so much better than my life?

He drives a fast car at twilight, he’s living the highlife

His life’s a lot of luxury highlights, like: he’s got a skylight

It don’t add up right

 

Right, it might be just be just because of his fee

But maybe, it could be, that he’s stealing from me

He could be funneling my finances, interest-free

Are you diddling my dollars now, truthfully?

 

Firstly, we gotta talk terminology

Do I drain your dough from HSBC?

No, I don’t, but when the funds get low

And I gotta go and throw the whole funeral show

They want baps and baguettes and a bun to go

That’s when I come into your kitchen and take a little dough

You what?

I sneak inside in the night, like Dracula

And get wicked with my spatula

 

I’m a baker but I make no dough

Cos I’m a bad brother and I steal his dough, oh no!

Every day, I’m baking bread

But the kids that I bred, they never get fed at all

I know it’s bad I mustn’t, I wouldn’t steal a croissant

A thief would do that kind of thing, a loving brother doesn’t

Bredrin, you’ve always been the big breadwinner

Shocking: the undertaker is a sinner

The mourners always want a muffin with the coffin

I never woulda stolen if they’d ever stopped their scoffin

I’m sorry that I always act like I’m above you

I regret everything – and I love you