Pop Goes My 9 lyrics

(feat. Master P, Silkk, Kane and Abel)

[Chorus x2: Silkk & Mo B di*k]
Pop, pop, pop, pop goes my nine (TRU n*ggas 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 hell
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*ggas blast me if they catch a n*gga slippin
Yall trippin
Yall gave my hommie 25 with a "L"
But the n*gga that killed my cousin, yall let that n*gga 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*ggas I have nine up in my draws
No time to pause, as I smash off in the dust like what
Keep my nine, cuz its 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 hella tight
Fit in the palm of my hand
But I ain' t trustin a n*gga tonight
I ain't walkin out the door unless I got my b*tch
My American Express, n*gga, 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*gga 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*ggas runnin back to Africa
b*tch banged up my passport so I'm swervin in my Acura
Grabbin on my di*k
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*ggas 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 Macereña
Little kids in my hood slang dope an talk sh*t
By some violence, brah
Pass 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*gga chopper
Gun slangin with pus*y juice on my trigger finger
Its Kane an Abel, now who da b*tch-made n*gga banger...
[Chorus x2]
[Master P]

Check it out playa
n*gga gotta protect ya motha-f*ckin self fa the 9-skrilla
n*gga ya need to grab ya motha-f*ckin nine 'fore ya grab ya shoes
Cuz n*gga only got 1 life to lose
An a n*gga gotta protect his own, playa
n*gga, live eye 4 an eye that's how TRU n*ggas live
An if yall real bout the situation
n*gga, trust no mutha-f*ckin body
Let cha mutha-f*ckin gun be ya friend, n*gga
Cuz ya enemy might be right next to you.Huh, remember that playa...
Pop-Pop goes the nine, n*gga
But TRU n*ggas ride dirty an stay strapped
An we Bout It

[Chorus Fades]