Nine to Yo Dome lyrics

by

Three 6 Mafia


[Intro: Buckshotz]
Nine to your, nine to your
Nine to your, nine to your
Nine to your dome ho
Nine to your dome ho
Nine to your, nine to your
Nine to your, nine to your
Nine to your, nine to your

[Chorus: Buckshotz]
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?

[Verse 1: Project Pat]
The mothaf*ckin' south is in the house for the nine-fo'
Memphis n*ggas, n*gga, and we killas who gon' run the floor
One of you ho's step, one of you ho's gonna die, b*tch
Ain't no thang, simple and plain, bang in your eye, b*tch
Tricky type ass n*ggas always wanna flex they nuts
But they gonna get f*cked with this nine stuck up they butt
Unload this whole damn clip up in your as*h*le
Naw, it's too late to squash that sh*t, I'm gonna blast, ho
f*ck the five-O, and the mothaf*ckin' jumpin' grass
Searchin' a real n*gga in his draws, like they ass a fag
Get yo' god damn hands off of a real one
Just before I make you feel the bullets from my steel, some
Pig ass cop think I'm playin', but I'm from the hood
North Memphis, ho, yeah, rank it, b*tch, Hollywood
Ready and prepared, that's to execute you with my tone
Whatcha gonna do when my nine chrome's at your dome?
b*tches!
[Chorus: Buckshotz]
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?

[Verse 2: Project Pat]
Nine mothaf*ckin' millimeter, ain't no tradin', ho
This some real sh*t, street sh*t, lettin' suckas know
If yo' ass step, go ahead, make me pull the trigger
f*ckin' with me, dawg, you gon' make me catch a charge, n*gga
Figure out a way with these hollow point, copper tips
Slip, trip, c*ck back, quick, then I shoot a b*tch
Ain't no damn f*ckin' around, thirteen rounds at your head
Aim point blank at your face, makin' sure you're dead
Headed to my mothaf*ckin' ride, ditchin' evidence
Mask off, Locs on, headed to my residence
Consequences, they occur when you talkin' smack
Thinkin' you the big man, but you better watch your back
Rat-a-tat-tat with the sound of the Tech-Nine
Take this trick b*tch ass n*gga tryin' to take mine
Oh, naw, man, I ain't tryin' to take yours
Man, you know what I'm sayin'?
Ain't nothing like that, dog, you know what I'm sayin'?
Nine to yo' f*ckin' dome, b*tch!
[Chorus: Buckshotz]
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, ho, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
Nine to your dome, whatcha, whatcha gonna do b*tch?
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