9 Little Milimeta Boys

[Verse 1: 8Ball]
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-I-M-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)

[MJG]
9 little millimeter nigga, how you figure?
It's 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 that you a motherfuckin' death lover
Weak ass boy, wit' a toy on da street
Cappin' on the right motherfucker 'til he meet
The wrong motherfuckin' 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 'cause he wanna be hip—, but ya slipped
Anyway, when ya left without ya bullets
Now be a stupid fool, reach for it then pull it
But you ain't, 'cause you can't, pull a gun wit' no ammo
You thinken' you can beat it but you know you ain't rambo
So it's best you try to beg for yo' life to stay alive
'Cause tricks, gettin' they dome blown away wit' 25
And all about da poppin' me a clip in get hip
You betta pack yo' bags, 'cause you goin on a trip
This shit is thick as heinz, and da shit is gettin' thicker. .
For da 9 little millimeter nigga

[Hook]
(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)

[8ball]
The motherfuckin' pigs wanna fuck up da game
Sending niggas to jail, because they 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 motherfuckin' shotgun
Niggas in da bushes tryna rob me for what I got
Watch them bitches scatter when I unload, da buckshots
Jack—, or be jacked, creep—, or get creeped on
But nigga don't step wrong, 'cause 8ball keep a tone
And if ya shoot at me I hope ya' hit me and kill me dead
'Cause if I dont die, I’m puttin a hole in yo' fuckin head
Scandalous hoes, love a nigga that's 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
Dont disrespect me, 'cause ho I'm the truth
9 little millimeter niggas smoke bitches too

[Hook]
(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)

[MJG]
I tote a motherfuckin' tone, when I gotta roam, 'cause pimps dont play
And I gotta stay, where young black niggas obey
Some kinda rule or strategy, 'cause 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 niggas who totin' shanks, I hope you young niggas think
To creep from a pimps backside before you take his bank
'Cause I ain't no motherfuckin' target, ain't no use of startin' this 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
I'ma be throwin' boom, they gone be shootin' pumps
Havin' a motherfuckin' 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 little 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 little millimeter boys

[Hook]
(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)