Artist: Kool Rock Jay f/ Seagram Album: Street Life EP Song: Break Yourself Typed by: jostmatt at bluewin dot ch [ VERSE 1: Kool Rock Jay ] Freeze - nobody move and no trippin And no slippin, and all I want is the grip'n And don't touch the button by the desk Cause it ain't shit to get six to the chest Yeah, triggers and real niggas ain't healthy Especially when a motherfucker tryina get wealthy Shut up, close your mouth and keep stackin Bitch, because you know the Rock's all about jackin You got a nice car, I got a bucket I seen a chance to get paid and said fuck it Now with a gun and a mask and a strong mind I can't slip, because I'm lookin at a long time 5 to 10 really ain't fly, see Cause I'm a motherfucker tryina get by, G So if you know what I know you better give up the dough And hit the motherfuckin flo' Break yourself [ VERSE 2: Kool Rock Jay ] I'm not in a gang cause my click's much bigger Some down-ass bitches and some hard-ass niggas Ready to spray some motherfuckin AK In the place of an enemy's face See, I usually don't speak about violence But I noticed that a gun causes much silence I'm fo' deep in a Chev' huntin for a motherfucker Who tried to play the Rock for a sucker Well, well, well, now who's slippin Stop the car, Troy, and gimme the clip'n Park the motherfuckin car right here He's ridin with a bitch, but I really don't care I creeped on his motherfuckin ride like a ninja Shot him 20 times but the hoe I didn't injure Because I'm good with these hands and also with them guns That's why them fools get done You better break yourself [ VERSE 3: Seagram ] It's the S-e-a-g with the Mr. Slow Flow Come to the O and see a comeback drug row And my Magnum still bustin like a cannon Steady sendin suckers and busters to C.P. Bannon That's a funeral home for those who don't roam in the O That's my home, serial murder it runs through my hormone, fool Face the time warp My pentagram is in need for a new corpse I cop ki's, stack g's by the bundles Bred in the Ville, but my roots lie in the Jungles I'm a soldier, I told ya of ancient pharaohs Loced up, here's a close-up of my barrel, nigga And don't call my rap pop Cause to me that's the sound comin from my fuckin Glock Not one pop, fool, but 16 Or 30 if I'm steppin with a AR-15 S.N.V.'s the team, murder scenes leave you horrified Bodies found in creeks, all the legs decapitized When I come I'm comin for a nigga's health Fizzool, brizzeak yourself [ VERSE 4: Kool Rock Jay ] Now gimme a gun and body bags are zipped up Suckers who be frontin on the Rock get ripped up Cause Kool Rock Jay ain't the one to play with So when I'm on the mic you punks don't say shit Now all you gotta do is just dance a while'n Peep my stylin as I go wildin Grease a Mac-10 and slip it in a duffle bag I don't lag, I got a 30 shot mag It's a Black Thing, Tales From the Dope Side Jay and the Boys got these perpetrators horrified Now you wanna rap and get into my business The game is hard, black, can I get a witness? Every turn I take there's a snake in the grass, see Tryin to make me sign on the line but I'ma pass, G Cause I want the cash and the money, the fame and the wealth So you perpetratin suckers better break yourself