Peace to My Nine lyrics

[Verse 1]
It's like root beer, one of a kind
Spice 1 is up in the house with the n*ggata-n*ggata-nine
And the clip and the trigger
Motherf*ckers try to play me yet they callin' me they n*gga
Should I get the AK and jump like Jack?
Or should I just reanimate the motherf*ckin' Fac?
My name is Spice 1, but I be comin' up like I'm 2
Or maybe 3 or 4, just a motherf*ckin' crew
Late night, seen a drive-by drop Impala
The n*ggas took cover and the b*tches all holler
If you think it's sick, then, n*gga, just throw up
I'm quick to bust a cap and leave your f*ckin' dome tore up
'Cause livin' up in the Bay is like a motherf*ckin' zoo
Every n*gga do whatever the f*ck he gotta do
The motherf*ckin' rhyme did the crime last century
Now it's on parole because my mouth's in penitentiary
But back to the ghetto, you see just about it all
Rest in peace to dead n*ggas on the wall
The sh*t'll never stop because a n*gga killed the cop
And now the cops are killin' the n*ggas 24 around clock
Around the block, around the road in every ghetto
Motherf*ckers wanna drop, so I'm livin' like the Devil
With the underground pound, murder facul sound
So n*ggas that f*ck around, lay around
And before I end this rhyme
I'd like to say peace to my motherf*ckin' nine
[Interlude]
The—the nine, the—the nine, the nine, the nine millimeter
The nine, the—the nine, the—the nine millimeter

[Verse 2]
Shootin' dice with some n*ggas that I didn't know
He pulled a nine when the double 4 hit the floor
I wonder why he wanna play me like a punk b*tch
I thought he knew I was the one to let the nine click
I played his ass like Jesse James and shot him in the throat
I picked the tongue up off my mails, now I'm outty, hoe
I'm stressin', it's a f*cked up world, G
I think about the sh*t that I used to see
n*ggas runnin' 'round with the street sweepers
Motherf*ckers layin' dead, loose change, beepers
b*tches screamin' about the n*ggas gettin' f*cked up
f*ck his b*tch too, she was stuck up
187, motherf*cker, that my showcase
I'll load the clip and kill a whole motherf*ckin' race
I'm stressed out like a motherf*cker
b*tch got me for a twenty, damn clucka
Yeah, you're right, I'm livin' wrong, G
And I never gave a f*ck about a dope fiend family
I seen a dope fiend killed last week
Left a bloody base pipe in the street
They burnt the b*tch up in the trunk, over eighty dollars
Started drivin' around the hood and I can hear her holler
Smoke comin' from the trunk, b*tch burnin' up
Cops turnin' down the streets, they was turnin' up
I'm hearin' shots ring out, 12 o'clock at night
A car full of dead n*ggas in the midnight
Because they gave the cops a reason just to shoot 'em up
Now they taping sh*t off, so, yo, suit 'em up
And before I end this rhyme
I'd like to say peace to my motherf*ckin' nine
[Interlude]
The—the nine, the—the nine, the nine, the nine millimeter
The nine, the—the nine, the—the nine millimeter

[Verse 3]
The police was comin', I had to dump the body
But like I said on the city streets, I'm John Gotti
When it comes to the gangster rap sh*t
I do a drive-by, murder your whole clique
See, I'm a rebel without a pulse
'Cause in my neighborhood you learn not to walk without a nine in your draws
It's like American Express
Because a lot of crazy n*ggas wanna spill your flesh
But some crazy jealous motherf*ckers never sleep
I'm gettin' C.B. banner on my beep, beep, beep
Fill a n*gga to the rim like brim
Do a drive-by while I'm suckin' on the Endo stem
Mix Hennessy with Thunderbird, Gin and juice
I'm high as f*ck f*ckin' 'round with 187 proof
Hard as a nickel, but I'm quick as f*ck to drop a dime
Because my boys got a n*gga back prime time
Rata-tata-tat-tat
Any b*tch wanna squab, it's like that
Cause I ain't goin' out like a fag
Got the n*gga for a ounce and a Jag
I straight trip and pop the clip
Now I'm gettin' rich off his sip
Pick up my boys on the block and it's on
Slangin' dope by the drug-free zone
Straight gangster mack
Kis over kis over Gs I stack
So when you step, step with caution
'Cause a nine to your throat'll have you caughin'
The S-P-I-C-E
In a rage with a gauge gettin' P-A-I-D
I ain't goin' out, f*ck Mickey Ds
I'd rather pimp hoes and clock Gs
'Cause that's what a real n*gga do to make a livin'
The talent of pimp was naturally given
And before I end this rhyme
I'd like to say peace to my motherf*ckin' nine
[Outro]
Yeah
I wanna say peace to my other motherf*ckin' nine
Yeah, Ant motherf*ckin' Ba—Ba—Booga—Booga motherf*ckin' Banks
I wanna say what up to my n*gga G motherf*ckin' mzz-Nut
Yeah, I wanna say what up to that girl Shorty motherf*cking B in the motherf*ckin' house
And my motherf*ckin' DJ
Xtra motherf*ckin' Large, go on with your big ass, yeah
My n*gga M.C. motherf*ckin' Ant
Kickin' that funky sh*t with Spice motherf*ckin' 1
187 in the motherf*ckin' house, peace