[Verse 1: Princess Loko]
Here I go, 9-4 comin' hard, better known as 9-quad, strictly pimpin', never caught slippin'
Loko's pullin' ho cards
Violate, split your wig, kick it with my fuckin' nig'
Talkin' all that bullshit sissy bitch, can't you dig?
Keep the chrome in my coat, bullets in my clip, ho
Slap your ass with that Glock, bitch, because you too slow
'93, long gone, '94, you know, it's on, that trappin' shit done played out, now it's time to tote the tone
Makin' ends, keepin' cheese, smokin' blunts, pushin' keys
For realer my nigga, pull the trigger, Princess ends, makin' these
Bumpin' junts on your ass, treat these bitches just like trash
Real niggas stay around, traitin' babies never last
Pimp and a player, all in one, mind games never fail
Never underestimate this pimpin', 'cause I'm raisin' hell
Finna vamp, holler, G, a real player gotta' go
But I'm just lettin' you know Loko ain't goin' for the '94
[Verse 2: Tommy Wright III]
Damn, that was quick, it's the 9-4, time to reload
One man gang, Tommy Wright, fuck daytime, I creep at night
Runnin' from the folks, jumpin' fences, all that shit is long gone
Pistol playin', Police got on my nerve, so now, I pack a tone
Never changed, still insane, dreamin' of runnin' the M-Town
Four Corner bound, where I'm found, underground, '94 sound, really though, check it out, ho
Tell these bitches, Princess Loko
[Verse 3: Princess Loko]
Motherfuckin' '94, hoes get they skull popped
Motto for the 9-quad: Get this fuckin' knowledge dropped
To you bitches flankin', perpetratin' of a player style
Real shit, too slick, Loko has no alibi
Homicide, do a crime, ho, don't waste my fuckin' time
Blow away your brain, with this four-five in my panty line
Niggas on my fuckin' jock and hoes is envy of this pimp
I'm hittin' so fuckin' hard, you hoes in jail cannot fuck with this
Lady Mack, in the black, hit the track and sell my crack
Keep a low profile, because these bitches be behind your back
Talk that shit but weak ass hell and smile up in your fuckin' face
Plottin' to the next nigga, how they can get my fame erased
Just can't stand to see a nigga be on top and make some ends
I don't have associates and sure don't have no fuckin' friends
Ridin' with my partners, Paranoid and T-W
Don't start no shit, won't be no shit, I got no time, to fuck with you
Got some static, ain't no ana, they don't wanna do shit, player
Shank a bitch and take her shit, a motherfuckin' ho slayer
Caught one time to lock me up, I'm chillin' in a jail cell
Used the phone and got much clout, my niggas made my fuckin' bail
Back to my everyday routines, keepin' dough, yeah, ho
You ain't know, I got you sewed up but you don't hear me though
T.C.B. Animosity, bitches, you can't fuck with me
Kickin' it with T-W and M-A-C-T-D-O-G
4 Corners and Pimpin' "V", creepin', 'cause this how we be
Real ass niggas pimpin' hoes in the 9-4
Another year for the pimps and the players, to start another level, mane
Higher than the last, I thought you knew 'cause this shit finna' change
Takin' over Memphis Tennessee, with stronger pimpin', G
Put them hoes in place, 'cause they were plottin' out for the '93
You better beware these pimps in the air don't barr none of you bitches junt
On a stroll just took control you niggas 'cause I got my tone
[Verse 4: Mac T-Dog]
Poppin' slugs to your head, comin' hard like a real Mac
Pistol play Mac T, trick drop blow a hole straight in your back
9-3, gone G, 9-4, in ho
M-A-C-T-D-O-G creepin' with that steel pole
Ridin' in the Chevy, me and my nigga Tommy Wright cheefin' out
Make that turn on murderer street, yo, pop up at my nigga house
Pick 'em up, we cheefin', mane, headed to the liquor store
Seen this nigga tryna flodge his teeth, let's take that young rookie dough
Stick 'em up, he runnin' home tryna get his tone, G
Caught that fool slippin' at the front door, shot him with my .380
Boom, boom, boom to the dome, then he lay dead
Get in the car and ball a [?]
Fuck this shit, vampin' in [?]
Hit Horn Lake, then I hit "PV"
Some shit I wouldn't have done in 9-3
9-4 is the year for pimpin', killin', stealin', robbin' a trick, see you my nig', out of the dough, comin' out for the 9-4
[Verse 5: Tommy Wright III]
I'm treal, I kill, I'm still slangin' and makin' deals
The thrill is what I feel, when I peel your cap off with the snap
You're trapped once I got this Glock cocked, ready to pop
Drop goes the narc perpetratin', I send your ass to Satan
Dead homies, dead roadies, that's what I always see
Mamas cryin', partners dyin' is what I saw up in 9-3
Tommy Wright is ready to swarm, just like a thunderstorm
Project born, keep my horn from beepin' when a nigga creepin'
Dead or alive, 9 to 5 ain't what I strive for
I don't fuck with your ass, dude, so what you fuck with mine for?
Got my strap ready to jack, stack my shells real well
Ain't no joke, can't go broke, gotta let the pistol smoke
Go for broke, killin' folks, will I make it?
I don't know
9-3 I played around but not anymore in 9-4
[Outro]
I ain't took no shit in '93 and I ain't takin' none in '94
