8ball - 9 Little Milimeta Boys lyrics

(8ball) Tight grip on the tech-9, now it's time to creep Hollow tips, in the clip, puttin' s**as in a deep sleep Win, lose, or draw yo gat Die if you ain't quick enough Or end up at 201 Just because you think you tough n***as 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, dat my hand held Cuts, on the hoe, where I whooped 'em with da fanbelt b**hes think i'm soft, cuz I treat them with respect But I won't hesitate to smoke a b**h wit my tech 9 millimeta beata if I feel dat I should hit that ho Smack, step back, & watch that ho hit the floor n***as on the gank might do better at a bank Cuz i'm packin' what you lackin' and i'm shootin' like a tank Its the p.i.m.p-ah The funky m.c.-ah The n***as dats droppin dem b**hes wit my 9 millimeta 1 little, 2 little, 3 little tricks 4 little, 5 little b**hes on my dick 6 little, 7 little, 8 little n***as make 9 little millimeta boys (boys) (MJG) 9 little millimeta n***a, how you figure Its a chance, talkin sh**, wit ya gun in ya pants I'm'a step on your a** like a stepbrother Looks as if to me dat you a mothaf**in d**h lover Weak a** boy, wit a toy on da street Cappin on the right mothaf**a til he meet The wrong mothaf**in pimp tight, operator Who shoot a n***a 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 its 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 sh** is thick as heinz, and da sh** is gettin thicker. . .for da 9 little millimeta n***a (hook) (oh sh**, I'm hit) Is there a doctor in the house?? (sh**, I'm hit) Damn, I think I'm dyin (sh**, I'm hit) Please call the doctor! (sh**, I'm hit) (8ball) The mothaf**in pigs wanna f** up da game Sending n***as to jail, because dey sell c**aine Rocks of crack, make stacks of dead presidents Junkies fiendin for a hit, f**s up my residence 5-o, creepin tryna catch a n***a serve one Thats, when I got my mothaf**in shotgun n***as in da bushes tryna rob me for what I got Watch dem b**hes scatter when I unload, da buckshots Jack- or be jacked, creep- or get creeped on But n***a don't step wrong, cuz 8ball keep a tone And if ya shoot at me I hope ya hit me and k** me dead Cuz if I dont die, I'm puttin a hole in yo f**in head Scandalous hoes, love a n***a dats beldum Play dat innocent role, and have a n***a f**ed up She'll s** ya dick and then ya fall in love While ya at home sleepin, she sellin p**y at da club But look here hoes, I won't go out like a punk b**h It takes more to get me, den f**in and s**in dick Dont disrespect me, cuz ho I'm the truth 9 little millimeta n***as smoke b**hes too (hook) (oh sh**, I'm hit) Is there a doctor in the house?? (sh**, I'm hit) Damn, I think I'm dyin (sh**, I'm hit) Please call the doctor! (sh**, I'm hit) (MJG) I tote a mothaf**in tone, when I gotta roam, cuz pimps dont play And I gotta stay, where young black n***as obey Some kinda rule or strategy, cuz I can't be havin the sh** from no n***a who think his tone is backin me Away from da sh** he talk, da sh** ain't worth bein heard I'm thinkin bout cappin domes, you ain't shootin sh** but birds For nigas who totin shanks, I hope you young n***as think To creep from a pimps backside before you take his bank Cuz I ain't no mothaf**in target, ain't no use of startin dis sh** Wit a n***a who legit, smokin bud by da pound, orange mound is my stomping ground Dats where I'm found, and all da n***as who down They gonna step when I step, jump when I jump Ima be throwin boom, dey gone be shootin pumps Havin a mothaf**in tone, really, really, really, ain't sh** to me It's just another f**in responsibility But weak n***as like em turn crumbs into bricks Gettin off in da click, wit sum petty a** sh** MJG, will play a punk like a toy You litle 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 little millimeta boys (hook) (oh sh**, I'm hit) Is there a doctor in the house?? (sh**, I'm hit) Damn, I think I'm dyin (sh**, I'm hit) Please call the doctor! (sh**, I'm hit)