Elbows - Jay Rock

Rock got it, Rock came from rock bottom, now I’m on top

Pocket full of guacamole in it, no lie

The windows on the Continental tinted cocaine colored, it’s a dope ride

Them dope boys outside

Gangbangers, crack heads and hood rats

Drug paraphenelia inside that back pack

If you want it we got it, that’s where them goods at

Nickerson Gardens, project parties

Chronic, Hennessey, dro, Bacardi

Guns, enemies that come through, spark them

Throw 'em in a dumpster;

you loved one, you lost him

I don’t dance I just boogie a lot

No dress code I just wear a hoodie a lot

White tee under that back against the wall

West coast rocking to the beat, now I’m telling y’all

Poke your elbows out and swing like this

Poke your elbows out and swing like this (homie)

Poke your elbows out and swing like this

Poke your elbows out and swing like this

Whatever you want to call it

For the weed heads or for the alcoholics

Now this can be some OG low-rider music

Or you could twist your fingers up and gangbang to it

(gangbang to it)

Look, I know some bad ass bitches that go hard on it

Addicted to that sex, they be traveling in packs

They be off that X, and they’ll let you fuck fast if you got some cess

I ain’t gon lie about it

I ain’t bullshitting, come to my block boy

Welcome to Hell’s kitchen, we bring that heat to you

Too much of a real nigga not to see through you

Wet him like faucet, bullet sink through you

They speed through you, they eat through you

Two lullaby burners, let 'em sing to you

The harmony of it is pleasure to your ears

You got to love it (nah) you got to hate it

I got to be my hometown favourite

Watts representer, say hello to your mayor

Everybody put them Ws in the air

May I show you the plan I lay out

My disc will never play out, I tell y’all to

Poke your elbows out and swing like this

Poke your elbows out and swing like this (homie)

Poke your elbows out and swing like this

Poke your elbows out and swing like this

Whatever you want to call it

For the weed heads or for the alcoholics

Now this can be some OG low-rider music

Or you could twist your fingers up and gangbang to it

(gangbang to it)

Swing your elbows and Taylors, the shell-toes

Kush blunts all in the air, I smell lows

Compton swap meets to freaks on Melrose

This is California, killers on them corners

From Long Beach to Inglewood, Hollywood

Back down, them gangsters will be on you

Block hot as a sauna, uh

We in the club, zonin', Patronin'

My knuckleheads roamin', they on and we on it

It’s jerkin', poppin', brackin', whatever you want to call it

What’s happenin', we smashin', crashin' your hood

My nigga what’s good?

Staying sucker-free, just as well as you should

I pull up in that motherfuckin' big-ass truck

What the fuck?

I’m on

Where your bitch?

She gone with a real nigga

I hop up out that ho asking how you feel nigga

I press blood;

throw your sets up!

Poke your elbows out and swing like this

Poke your elbows out and swing like this (homie)

Poke your elbows out and swing like this

Poke your elbows out and swing like this

Whatever you want to call it

For the weed heads or for the alcoholics

Now this can be some OG low-rider music

Or you could twist your fingers up and gangbang to it

(gangbang to it)