8Ball, MJG - 9 Little Milimeta Boys sangtekster (lyrics)
[8Ball, MJG - 9 Little Milimeta Boys sangtekster lyrics]
Tight grip on the TEC-9
Now it's time to creep
Hollow tips in the clip
Puttin' suckas in a deep sleep
Win, lose, or draw your gat
Die if you ain't quick enough
Or end up at 201 just
Because you think you tough
Niggas in the med, now they dead
From the Uzi round
Trick was found, bloody on the ground
Down in orange mound hole in his dome
From the chrome that my hand held
Cuts on the ho
Where I whooped 'em with the fanbelt
Bitches think I'm soft 'cause I
Treat them with respect
But, I won't hesitate to smoke
A bitch with my TEC
Nine-millimeter beater if I feel that
I should hit that ho smack, step back
Then watch that ho hit the floor
Niggas on the gank might do better at a bank
'Cause, I'm packin' what you lackin' and
I'm shootin' like a tank
It's the P-IM-P, yeah, the funky MC, yeah
The niggas that's droppin' them
Bitches with my nine-millimeter
One little, two little, three little tricks
Four little, five little bitches on my dick
Six little, seven little
Eight little niggas make
Nine little millimeter boys (Boys)
9 little millimeta nigga, how you figure
Its a chance, talkin shit
Wit ya gun in ya pants
I'm'a step on your ass like a stepbrother
Looks as if to me dat
You a mothafuckin death lover
Weak ass boy, wit a toy on da street
Cappin on the right mothafucka til he meet
The wrong mothafuckin pimp tight, operator
Who shoot a nigga first
And then reason wit em later
Now punks, trip me out, wit a gun and no clip
Catchin nothin but a charge cuz he
Wanna be hip- but ya slipped
Anyway, when ya left witout ya bullets
Now be a stupid fool
Reach for it then pull it
But, you ain't, cuz u can't
Pull a gun wit no ammo
You thinkn you can beat it but
You know you ain't rambo
So, it's best you try to beg
For ya life to stay alive
Cuz tricks, gettin dey dome blown away wit 25
And all about da popppin me a clip in get hip
You betta pack yo bags
Cuz you goin on a trip
Dis shit is thick as heinz
And da shit is gettin thicker for
Da 9 little millimeta nigga
(oh shit, I’m hit)
Is there a doctor in the house?
(shit, I’m hit)
Damn, I think I’m dyin (shit, I’m hit)
Please call the doctor! (shit, I’m hit)
The mothafuckin pigs wanna fuck up da game
Sending niggas to jail
Because dey sell cocaine rocks of crack
Make stacks of dead presidents
Junkies fiendin for a hit
Fucks up my residence
5-o, creepin tryna catch a nigga serve one
Thats, when I got my mothafuckin shotgun
Niggas in da bushes tryna rob
Me for what I got
Watch dem bitches scatter when I unload
Da buckshots
Jack- or be jacked, creep- or get creeped on
But nigga don't step wrong
Cuz 8ball keep a tone
And if ya shoot at me I hope
Ya hit me and kill me dead
Cuz if I don't die
I’m puttin a hole in yo fuckin head
Scandalous hoes, love a nigga dats beldum
Play dat innocent role
And have a nigga fucked up
She'll suck ya dick and then ya fall in love
While ya at home sleepin
She sellin pussy at da club
But look here hoes
I won't go out like a punk bitch
It takes more to get me
Den fuckin and suckin dick
Don't disrespect me, cuz ho I’m the truth
9 little millimeta niggas smoke bitches too
(oh shit, I’m hit)
Is there a doctor in the house?
(shit, I’m hit)
Damn, I think I’m dyin (shit, I’m hit)
Please call the doctor! (shit, I’m hit)
I tote a mothafuckin tone, when I gotta roam
Cuz pimps don't play and I gotta stay
Where young black niggas obey
Some kinda rule or strategy
Cuz I can't be havin the
Shit from no nigga who think
His tone is backin me
Away from da shit he talk
Da shit ain't worth bein heard
I’m thinkin bout cappin domes
You ain't shootin shit but birds
For nigas who totin shanks
I hope you young niggas think
To creep from a pimps backside
Before you take his bank
Cuz I ain't no mothafuckin target
Ain't no use of startin dis shit
Wit a nigga who legit, smokin
Bud by da pound
Orange mound is my stomping ground
Dats where I’m found
And all da niggas who down
They gonna step when I step, jump when I jump
Ima be throwin boom
Dey gone be shootin pumps
Havin a mothafuckin tone
Really, really, really, ain't shit to me
It’s just another fuckin responsibility
But weak niggas like em
Turn crumbs into bricks
Gettin off in da click
Wit sum petty ass shit
MJG, will play a punk like a toy
You litle 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 little millimeta boys
(oh shit, I’m hit)
Is there a doctor in the house?
(shit, I’m hit)
Damn, I think I’m dyin (shit, I’m hit)
Please call the doctor! (shit, I’m hit)
Now it's time to creep
Hollow tips in the clip
Puttin' suckas in a deep sleep
Win, lose, or draw your gat
Die if you ain't quick enough
Or end up at 201 just
Because you think you tough
Niggas in the med, now they dead
From the Uzi round
Trick was found, bloody on the ground
Down in orange mound hole in his dome
From the chrome that my hand held
Cuts on the ho
Where I whooped 'em with the fanbelt
Bitches think I'm soft 'cause I
Treat them with respect
But, I won't hesitate to smoke
A bitch with my TEC
Nine-millimeter beater if I feel that
I should hit that ho smack, step back
Then watch that ho hit the floor
Niggas on the gank might do better at a bank
'Cause, I'm packin' what you lackin' and
I'm shootin' like a tank
It's the P-IM-P, yeah, the funky MC, yeah
The niggas that's droppin' them
Bitches with my nine-millimeter
One little, two little, three little tricks
Four little, five little bitches on my dick
Six little, seven little
Eight little niggas make
Nine little millimeter boys (Boys)
9 little millimeta nigga, how you figure
Its a chance, talkin shit
Wit ya gun in ya pants
I'm'a step on your ass like a stepbrother
Looks as if to me dat
You a mothafuckin death lover
Weak ass boy, wit a toy on da street
Cappin on the right mothafucka til he meet
The wrong mothafuckin pimp tight, operator
Who shoot a nigga first
And then reason wit em later
Now punks, trip me out, wit a gun and no clip
Catchin nothin but a charge cuz he
Wanna be hip- but ya slipped
Anyway, when ya left witout ya bullets
Now be a stupid fool
Reach for it then pull it
But, you ain't, cuz u can't
Pull a gun wit no ammo
You thinkn you can beat it but
You know you ain't rambo
So, it's best you try to beg
For ya life to stay alive
Cuz tricks, gettin dey dome blown away wit 25
And all about da popppin me a clip in get hip
You betta pack yo bags
Cuz you goin on a trip
Dis shit is thick as heinz
And da shit is gettin thicker for
Da 9 little millimeta nigga
(oh shit, I’m hit)
Is there a doctor in the house?
(shit, I’m hit)
Damn, I think I’m dyin (shit, I’m hit)
Please call the doctor! (shit, I’m hit)
The mothafuckin pigs wanna fuck up da game
Sending niggas to jail
Because dey sell cocaine rocks of crack
Make stacks of dead presidents
Junkies fiendin for a hit
Fucks up my residence
5-o, creepin tryna catch a nigga serve one
Thats, when I got my mothafuckin shotgun
Niggas in da bushes tryna rob
Me for what I got
Watch dem bitches scatter when I unload
Da buckshots
Jack- or be jacked, creep- or get creeped on
But nigga don't step wrong
Cuz 8ball keep a tone
And if ya shoot at me I hope
Ya hit me and kill me dead
Cuz if I don't die
I’m puttin a hole in yo fuckin head
Scandalous hoes, love a nigga dats beldum
Play dat innocent role
And have a nigga fucked up
She'll suck ya dick and then ya fall in love
While ya at home sleepin
She sellin pussy at da club
But look here hoes
I won't go out like a punk bitch
It takes more to get me
Den fuckin and suckin dick
Don't disrespect me, cuz ho I’m the truth
9 little millimeta niggas smoke bitches too
(oh shit, I’m hit)
Is there a doctor in the house?
(shit, I’m hit)
Damn, I think I’m dyin (shit, I’m hit)
Please call the doctor! (shit, I’m hit)
I tote a mothafuckin tone, when I gotta roam
Cuz pimps don't play and I gotta stay
Where young black niggas obey
Some kinda rule or strategy
Cuz I can't be havin the
Shit from no nigga who think
His tone is backin me
Away from da shit he talk
Da shit ain't worth bein heard
I’m thinkin bout cappin domes
You ain't shootin shit but birds
For nigas who totin shanks
I hope you young niggas think
To creep from a pimps backside
Before you take his bank
Cuz I ain't no mothafuckin target
Ain't no use of startin dis shit
Wit a nigga who legit, smokin
Bud by da pound
Orange mound is my stomping ground
Dats where I’m found
And all da niggas who down
They gonna step when I step, jump when I jump
Ima be throwin boom
Dey gone be shootin pumps
Havin a mothafuckin tone
Really, really, really, ain't shit to me
It’s just another fuckin responsibility
But weak niggas like em
Turn crumbs into bricks
Gettin off in da click
Wit sum petty ass shit
MJG, will play a punk like a toy
You litle 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 little millimeta boys
(oh shit, I’m hit)
Is there a doctor in the house?
(shit, I’m hit)
Damn, I think I’m dyin (shit, I’m hit)
Please call the doctor! (shit, I’m hit)