Injury Reserve – Jawbreaker Lyrics (feat. Rico Nasty & Pro Teens)

[Chorus: Pro Teens]
How come you’re staring like you don’t know what it’s for?
Get your shit together, get your jaw up off the floor
How come you’re staring like you don’t know what it’s for?
Get your shit together, get your jaw up off the floor

[Pre-Verse: Ritchie With a T]
We got these niggas looking at me
Like they’ve never seen a nigga put a real ass f**king ‘fit together
They’re so used to looking at these new goddamn Instagra…
Y’all niggas seen these Instagram pages?
Where they literally tell you the whole entire outfit and the price range from head to toe, nigga
So today, Ian Connor doesn’t happen to have anything on top of his head
But he does happen to have the Supreme Playboy collab jacket on
And we’re just gonna go ahead and skip to the bottom
‘Cause can you guys notice that he does have the Rape 3000’s on
And those are gonna cost you ’bout 450 dollars deadstock

[Verse 1: Ritchie With a T]
Yo, the new dressing off the mannequin shit
You a cool guy in all black, on some Anakin shit
I be breaking necks and I ain’t even plannin’ these fits
When I walk in, I got everyone panicking shit, like
Like, why would you wear those to a function?
You know they gon’ get stepped on
You know you gon’ be punching niggas
(But I got two pairs)
Anything that can will, Murphy Lee’s law, stunting

[Verse 2: Rico Nasty]
“You know that you’re a black girl, right?
Your hair’s ‘sposed to be sewed in, not spiked up?”
I do what I want, not whatever gets the likes up
They don’t like my outfit but they like the outcome
You never seen these shoes, well, that’s the reason I bought them
They copy my swag, you can see that I taught them
Fresh to death, I belong in a coffin
But I’m way too liked to die, so often express myself
Put it in a song so I don’t kill myself
Listen to it back and then I heal myself
I got money and the power and I’m still myself
Mama said, “Don’t go broke tryna feel yourself”
Mama said, “Don’t break tryna build yourself”
And don’t feel ashamed if you need some help
‘Cause we all do, ’cause we all lose

[Verse 3: Stepa J. Groggs]
‘Cause we all know someone who blown their whole rent on some Off-White
I ain’t got none but I’m still trippin’ off white
Lost my mama and I lost my mind and I still ain’t got my head right
Yeah, out in London I was dropping pounds
While my pockets fat off synching sounds
Had me dressed like the cover from Seeing Sounds
Got all these clones frontin’ tryna be me now, like

[Chorus: Pro Teens & Injury Reserve]
How come you’re staring like you don’t know what it’s for?
Get your shit together, get your jaw up off the floor
How come you’re staring like you don’t know what it’s for?
Get your shit together, get your jaw up off the floor
How come you’re staring like you don’t know what it’s for? (How Sway?)
Get your shit together, get your jaw up off the floor (How Sway?)
How come you’re staring like you don’t know what it’s for?
Get your shit together, get your jaw up off the floor (How Sway?)

[Outro: Pro Teens]
Jaw up off the floor
Get your shit together, get your jaw up off the floor

Don Trip & Starlito – Boomshakalaka

[Starlito]
Pull up shooting, yeah I clutch .30’s
Just like Curry, but my cup dirty
I’ll shoot a nigga, like Future nigga
When Young Metro say you ain’t trustworthy
Does that make Trip Klay Thompson?
In the kitchen like Action Bronson
Racks on me like I’m Blac Youngsta
I’m an All-Star with cash money

[Don Trip]
NASCAR full of fast money
I fuck a bitch for her tax money
My bread dirty like Murphy Lee
But I’m Marshawn Lynch if you at me something
I’m so cold, I need a space heater, and a pair of mittens, and a chinchilla
Left hand shooter like James Harden
But I’m good with the right like Quin Miller
Blade sharp as a potato peeler
My clip long enough to say No Limit
My babies even like balling out they say "Daddy’s pockets got play dough in it"

[Starlito]
This my real life man it ain’t no image
All these rappers with the same ol’ gimmicks
Talk that talk but they don’t live it
We the Dream Team, ’92 Olympics
Pistol on me like I’m Pete Maravich
Shooter like I’m Peja Stojakovic
You would think I play for Gregg Popovich
Moral of the story, you ain’t robbing shit

[Don Trip]
Strapped like I’m ready for an apocalypse
Two percent tint on my rocket ship
Beam on my bit’ with a carbine kick
And a clip longer than a fucking hockey stick

[Starlito]
Two 9’s on me, I’m Jermaine Gretzky
Ten pounds of sour that’s a power play
Tryna get a check and stay out the penalty box
I’ve been grinding 48 hours a day
I can eyeball it and tell you how much it weighs
Sell you dry wall and tell you "Have a nice day"
On the Eastside that’s the games we play
But I’ve been trying hard to stay out of the way
I know some bad bitches that’ll lie to your face
Tell you that they love you then send my guys to your place
Naaah, and they don’t bake
Them niggas coming for them pies and that cake

[Don Trip]
And all they wanna know is the time and place
Money in the picture, I’ma find a way
I checked my schedule, my time is great
It’s pay day, it’s my kind of day
I’m back in the bitch like I moved away
Laughing at the bitches that I used to date
Bitch told me to buy her a Gucci bag, I told her "Shut the fuck up" like Juicy J
This hoe must be hallucinating
I’d rather throw all my loot away
I’d rather burn all the cash I got, if I tricked I’d never recuperate
I’d be somewhere in the ICU
Breathing through a muthafucking oxygen tube
Craig like "Craig, what happened to you!"
I’m dying cause I bought some bitch some shoes

[Starlito]
They lie so often, I get confused
I’m on my grind, yeah my office is my kitchen too
Everybody with me tote my bitches too
You might get hit six different tools
A .45, a .40, Glock 9, FN five-seven, and a couple Mac-11’s
Overnight trip, yeah we still pack the weapons
Though we might trip, extra clips for protection
This ain’t what you want, but that’s just a suggestion
Make it out alive even if I get arrested
Tell a hundred lies, but I won’t give a confession
I could teach a lesson on discretion, Lito