44's (feat. Emjae) Songtext - Jay Rock

44's (feat. Emjae) - Jay Rock

[Intro]

[Hook: Jay Rock]

Yeah I'm popping 44's, niggas better lock and load
Yeah I'm popping 44's, that'll leave your homies broke
Yeah I'm popping 44's, niggas better lock and load
Yeah I'm popping 44's, 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 44's
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


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