Drop A Gem On 'Em

[Hook x2] It's the infamous back in the house once again Live the life that of diamonds and guns and now gems Pull gats like a basehead pull on stems The Mobb got the bomb run out and tell a friend Drop a gem on em {* repeats throughout song: If some rain, if some rain has got to fall *} x3 [Verse 1: Havoc] Sick and tired of you fake crooks, need to retire They got you gassed, take a match and smack fire out ya Maggot ass, Havoc represent for the Q-B-C Smoke that ass like a loosey Though I need to quit, fuck it, I love it like a cloud Over the projects, your game I'm above it It's combat, gats, bangers and all that You's a small cat, whatever you on get off that I mention, nothing but the real shit presenting The hollow tip crew, 41st side convention Stride full, you half-stepping Like a fresh Tec out of the box, yo niggas I'm testing That's no question, bitch-ass have you confessing Like a DT, left in state of depression You under pressure, in tag no doubt catcher The snitch-snatcher, shooken with asthma, you casper You yell my name, that's only giving me props Plus the fans that you got wondering what's got you hot It's too not, knocked out the box and got rocked Got raped on the Island, you officially got Kick that thug shit, Vibe magazine on some love shit Keep it real kid, cause you don't know who you fucking with [Hook] [Verse 2: Prodigy] Yeah likewise, I'm tired of rap guys that's faggots Your P'll shut eyes and swole up your whole outside I baptize, niggas get wet, hit up your backside Get claptized and set straight, put on your head straight Watch out for these upstate cats Be leary of New Yiddy niggas with gats, with the wall on they back Rikers Island flashbacks of the house you got scufted in You would think that getting your head shot's enough but then Now you wanna go at my team Must have been drunk when you wrote that shit Too bad you had to did it to your own self My rebellion, retaliate, I had the whole New York state Aiming at your face at the gate Bottom line off top soon as you came through Shots flew, don't even know the half of my crew I got a hundred strong arm niggas ready to rock your shit Clocks tick, your days are numbered in low digits You look suspicious, suspect niggas is bitches Get chopped up, Grade A meat, something delicious And laced back up, 2 G's worth of stitches To reconstruct your face and learn how to speak again My mob's like a bunch of wild Puerto Ricans With bangers the size of African spears, it's warfare In the arena, we turn arenas into house of horrors Its terrodome, when you see my clique you need to run behind shit You got a gat you better find it And use that shit, think fast and get reminded Of robberies in Manhattan, you know what happened 60 G's worth of gun clapping Who shot ya? You probably screamed louder than an opera New York got ya, now you wanna use my mob as a crutch What you think you can't get bucked again? Once again [Hook]