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 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

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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

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