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tru - pop goes my nine lyrics
chorus x2 (silkk & mo b d-ck)
pop, pop, pop, pop goes my nine (tru n-gg-s ride dirty an stay strapped)
every time i think about the times you did me wrong (pop goes the nine)
verse 1 (silkk)
see me an my click
we be hoppin outta range rover
everyday taz test,sober
fightin fellon convictions, barely missin angola
on the run, it’s h-ll
fresh outta jail
that’s no life, carry me a nine, cops chase away the 4-5
my girl ask me why i carry the nine, with the clip in
i said n-gg-s blast me if they catch a n-gg- slippin
yall trippin
yall gave my hommie 25 with a “l”
but the n-gg- that killed my cousin, yall let that n-gg- out on bail
so i say, f-ck this
and i hit the corner on the streets
keep my nine up on the seat
and hold my nine like a g
cuz i’ma hustle ’til i fall
i’ma have it all ball
f-ck them n-gg-s i have nine up in my draws
no time to pause, as i smash off in the dust like what
keep my nine, cuz it’s the only thing i can trust
an every since ice cube said, it’s really been a trip
i’d rather be
judged by 12 than be carried by 6. that’s why its…
chorus x2
verse 2 (master p)
picture me rollin, rest in peace pac
i’m ridin in my 500 s-e-l strapped with my plastic glock
me an my b-tch, we be h-lla tight
fit in the palm of my hand
but i ain’ t trustin a n-gg- tonight
i ain’t walkin out the door unless i got my b-tch
my american express, n-gg-, this will be it
seven-teen kids to tag along
hollow tips, black jack, call me al capone
but i’m dirty like harry
i keep a 9 millimeter cuz i ain’t gettin buried
my glock be special like ed
all yall n-gg- ain’t strapped
might end up in the body-bag…
chorus x2
verse 3 (kane & abel)
pop, pop, goes the ruger out the lexus landcruiser
best of slow ya roll hoe
‘fore i put some holes through ya
boo-yah, my fifty calliber got n-gg-s runnin back to africa
b-tch banged up my p-ssport so i’m swervin in my acura
grabbin on my d-ck
smokin the sh-t
momma kicked me out the house
i smack that b-tch
now i’m skandelous and rich
mia-x said we got it tweekin
them n-gg-s tweekin
no limit got some gangsta sh-t for the mexicans and puerto ricans
new york to l.a., miami to atlanta
black talons from my nine got them dancing the macere馻
little kids in my hood slang dope an talk sh-t
by some violence, brah
p-ss the silencer, pop that b-tch…
i’m in my navy blue beamer suckin on weed
holdin the streets
as we brain off that vodka
we’re still in the n-gg- chopper
gun slangin with p-ssy juice on my trigger finger
its kane an abel, now who da b-tch-made n-gg- banger…
[chorus x 2]
[master p]
check it out playa
n-gg- gotta protect ya motha-f-ckin self fa the 9-skrilla
n-gg- ya need to grab ya motha-f-ckin nine ‘fore ya grab ya shoes
cuz n-gg- only got 1 life to lose
an a n-gg- gotta protect his own, playa
n-gg-, live eye 4 an eye that’s how tru n-gg-s live
an if yall real bout the situation
n-gg-, trust no m-th–f-ckin body
let cha m-th–f-ckin gun be ya friend, n-gg-
cuz ya enemy might be right next to you.huh, remember that playa…
pop-pop goes the nine, n-gg-
but tru n-gg-s ride dirty an stay strapped
an we bout it
[chorus fades]
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