44s

[Intro] [Hook: Jay Rock] Yeah I'm popping 44s, niggas better lock and load Yeah I'm popping 44s, that'll leave your homies broke Yeah I'm popping 44s, niggas better lock and load Yeah I'm popping 44s, that'll leave your homies broke [Verse 1: Emjae] What you doing bout me Many niggas ain't ready I'm to deli when it come to the [?] I bet he, tried to run like a nigga won't [?] Rock's on down cause he on with [?] Hanging round town like a nigga won't get it Getting off pounds but his change still petty Hop in that Chevy They know that I'm heavy If you niggas ain't scary Then the better get ready I'm Emjae, Emjae No I don't play when I come with the K Fuck a memory cause I come here to stay Nigga you deceased cause you come here to lay Straight about the [?] startin' shit with a full clip So when a mothafucka tripped in a [?] And then I make my bullets stick like hot grease Stick like hot chicks, Nigga, I got this Rock be popping 44s Me I love that TEC and nina Watch my lead hydrate your body like Aquafina Any nigga fucking with me, I'm busting the piece Bringing you the trouble how you want it to be So fuck with these G's, otherwise have you down on your knees Begging us please [?], you don't want it with we, see? We got the projects going nuts Any any nigga dissin' Watts, yeah we fucking 'em up I'm Emjae niggas run away I rhyme to the beat Straight off that Eastside 99th street, holla at me nigga [Hook] [Verse 2: Jay Rock] You niggas want beef, let's make it official Cock and bust, sending plenty niggas to hospitals I'm like Tom Cruise been through missions impossible You trying to stop me, that's gon be a mission impossible Aim I still [?] at ya, on the tip of the silencer Red dot spotted ya, hollow tips gonna silence ya Got a lock like slammers I'm a MC good with hammers Hit your block, spray Nigga don't play Put you in the garbage like [?] I'm packin' a four That'll make you rock and roll That'll make you drop to the floor These bullets burn a bit Leave your eyes closed permanent You don't wanna work my nerve My nerve will tell me grab the bird And when I get the bird I'ma knock your brains up on the curb And I'ma dip and swerve with the herbs and some syrup And I'ma hit the church, send the word, have you murked And a, a week later they gon be digging up dirt And now you a memory, your face all up on a shirt