Jay Rock
Jay Rock - 112 Bars lyrics
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Yeah niggaz! Who the fuck you thought it was? It's ya nigga Jay muthafuckin Rock, top dog! Before I get started, let me get a rest in peace to my nigga Pac Gotta go in on this one Yeah, let's go Give me my money and stacks and lace my swishas with kush, nigga Hard liquir fuck up my liver, guaranteed I pick up The west coast like the phone is ringing, hello, Anybody on this phone this evening? Guess not Jay Rock, out the bottom of Watts, Gangsta, ain't shit pop but the water in pots We cookin the crack, distributin' to the block Gettin' it back, I use the same formula for rap I'm warnin' ya, leavin' more dead bodies for the coroner Shootin any witness with a cornia As far as rap, I'm best the rapper out of California Warrior, in the 300 like a sparley, Gladiator, blast a hater, put em in a coffin For coughin', that thera-flu won't do Gonna need more if you don't wanna see the lord Tell me what ya livin' for like 2 times 2 I'm a sureshot like marksmen, you all dead Cold red, money clippers if a nigga fold bread That will feed four people for the next four years I ain't just got ends, I end cold reds [?] Cosigned by the allmighty pac when I drop science Like? I'm not lyin' Put a scar on your face like cymbels uncle Dumb fuck, I was built to tussle Gangbang, murder state, west side of the mississippi Where you can die like a shirt from an old hippie Peep the irony, the heater on me when it's nippy Hit a nigga on Q like I'm from the fifties Roll through the sixties just to fuck withNnippsey Hussle to the death like interpreters I'm hurtin' ya I could close curtain ya, but I'll let you bleed I'm a top dog, nigga, like? Got the game on lock, well I'm still in the ki's Don't get it twisted, honey, I'm still with the bees Like sean carter on the yacht, what you got, nothing, nigga Give it up, circle round the block (BUCK-BUCK a nigga) What the fuck, this is hip-hop to the third degree Murder emcees, send 'em up, throw 'em in a burboun truck Throw some gasoline on 'em, light a match, burn em' up I don't think you heard enough, fuck it, let me turn it up Grab ya bitch, turn her out, sell her for a couple buds Put her on a stroll, bet she'll bring back a armored truck Tell her I'm a city nigga, gritty nigga, grimy nigga Even when you eyes closed, guaranteed you'll find me In the Watts with a backroad, the hood made my heart cold Put me in a loophole, now the nigga do shows Kick flows like I knew martial arts Raving at Peter Parker once a nigga climb the charts All my real niggas follow, I don't fuck with pussy niggas Fuck with real bloods, real crips, who you foolin', nigga? Jay Rock, jack the ripper, rep for every ghetto I'm a still be here even when the smoke settle on a sunset Rollin' down sunset, hand on the wheel Middle finger to the cops, give a fuck how they feel I'm a ride like a freighttrain on ya rap-lames Screaming? got the projects on my back, mane You ain't gotta aks mane, Jay Rock got it Top Dog, aka they got dollas Big like Chris Wallace, fly like weed parlors Sig on my lap, we'll pop your collar From the land where the coolest cat will drop your mama Mouthpiece like barack obama, but still street Stilll creep through your set, I'm a thug I guess Cold stares for the clothes I dress, I'm well aware of that Niggas be hatin', soon as they jump like a car cable Homie gon' be disabled, screaming for help Tryin' to kill me? Better of killing yourself, because Suicide, it's a suicide The way I was raised, either do or die You can die any given time, it's not promised Hop out, spray lamas, come back with the bic mac Hassle McDonalds on our house, what you 'bout? Big money?, for cheap talk Bumping your gums, you'll get your teeth lost Play me for dumb, we bust guns, leave ya street-chalked Do this for fun, we hit ya block, let the piece bump Like pitbulls, get shookup when the flow cook up Tell 'em I got the hookup like candyman on your steps I command respect like a law permitted to y'all Y'all never come brawl with the west coast general Criminal background, tell mama her son rap now No more hustling rocks up in that crackhouse All I do is bring it to you, pay per view Food for thought, brought wordplay, what you brought I brought the big boys with me, my project people Call me Bishop Lamont, stand on top of the church steeple Writin' raps 'til my hands collapse Starin' at the world from a different view like my Crooked I do Hold my beach cruiser as I ride by you With my Glasses on, shout out to Malone Out-of-towners want to trip, then I'm ready to rob 'em See I got that K boy, who wanna pile 'em And that K got a Dot, if I let a shot go Hit you in your Ab, and there go your Soul On my misson ready to roll, let's do this to a living But Jay said that's a felony cause niggas keep on telling If a coward snitch on me, then this what I'll do Pull the rocket out and let it bang loose Then give his mama the blues, like SBI Got hot dollars now, so the FBI All inside of my ride, that's the Cadillac Fleetwood If the west blow, shit, you know that the east would I'm coastal with it, look, me and Mistah Fab Doing fabolous digits, it's a family business In the field with that, then you get stuck up Give it to you every day, seven years of bad luck Who got the gin and the juice, toss it up for my name I don't know how many bars, but this not a game