Comin’ For ’94 (Remastered)

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Princess Loko] Here I go, 9-4 comin' hard, better known as 9-quad Strictly pimpin', never caught slippin', Loko's pullin' ho cards Violate, split your wig, kick it with my fuckin' nig Talkin' all that bullshit sissy bitch, can't you dig? Keep the chrome in my coat, bullets in my clip, ho Slap your ass with that Glock, bitch, because you too slow '93, long gone, '94, you know it's on, that trappin' shit done played out Now it's time to tote the tone Makin' ends, keepin' cheese, smokin' blunts, pushin' keys For realer my nigga, pull the trigger, Princess ass makin' these Bumpin' junts on your ass, treat these bitches just like trash Real niggas stay around, traitin' babies never last Pimp and a player, all in one, mind games never fail Never underestimate this pimpin', 'cause I'm raisin' hell Finna vamp, holler G, a real player gotta' go But I'm just lettin' you know Loko ain't goin' for the '94 [Verse 2: Tommy Wright III] Damn, that was quick, it's the 9-4, time to reload One man gang, Tommy Wright, fuck daytime, I creep at night Runnin' from the folks, jumpin' fences, all that shit is long gone Pistol playin', Police got on my nerve, so now I pack a tone Never changed, still insane, dreamin' of runnin' the M-Town Four Corner bound, where I'm found, underground, '94 sound Really though, check it out, ho, tell these bitches, Princess Loko [Verse 3: Princess Loko] Motherfuckin' '94, hoes get they skull popped Motto for the 9-quad: Get this fuckin' knowledge dropped To you bitches flankin', perpetratin' of a player style Real shit, too slick, Loko has no alibi Homicide, do a crime, ho, don't waste my fuckin' time Blow away your brain with this four-five in my panty line Niggas on my fuckin' jock and hoes is envy of this pimp I'm hittin' so fuckin' hard, you hoes in jail cannot fuck with this Lady Mack, in the black, hit the track and sell my crack Keep a low profile because these bitches be behind your back Talk that shit but weak ass hell and smile up in your fuckin' face Plottin' to the next nigga how they can get my fame erased Just can't stand to see a nigga be on top and make some ends I don't have associates and sure don't have no fuckin' friends Ridin' with my partners, Paranoid and T-W Don't start no shit, won't be no shit, I got no time to fuck with you Got some static, ain't no anna, they don't wanna do shit, player Shank a bitch and take her shit, a motherfuckin' ho-slayer Caught one time to lock me up, I'm chillin' in a jail cell Used the phone and got much clout, my niggas made my fuckin' bail Back to my everyday routines, keepin' dough, yeah, ho You ain't know, I got you sewed up but you don't hear me, though T.C.B. Animosity, bitches, you can't fuck with me Kickin' it with T-W and M-A-C-T-D-O-G Four Corners and Pimpin' "V", creepin', 'cause this how we be Real ass niggas pimpin' hoes in the 9-4 Another year for the pimps and the players, to start another level, mane Higher than the last, I thought you knew 'cause this shit finna' change Takin' over Memphis Tennessee with stronger pimpin', G Put them hoes in place, 'cause they were plottin' out for the '93 You better beware these pimps in the air don't bar none of you bitches, jones On a stroll, just took control of you niggas 'cause I got my tone [Verse 4: Mac T-Dog] Poppin' slugs to your head, comin' hard like a real Mac Pistol play Mac T, trick, drop, blow a hole straight in your back 9-3, gone G, 9-4, in ho, M-A-C-T-D-O-G creepin' with that steel pole Ridin' in the Chevy, me and my nigga Tommy Wright, cheefin' out Make that turn on murderer street, yo, pop up at my nigga house Pick 'em up, we cheefin', mane, headed to the liquor store Seen this nigga tryna flodge his teeth, let's take that young rookie dough Stick 'em up, he runnin' home tryna get his tone, G Caught that fool slippin' at the front door, shot him with my .380 Boom, boom, boom to the dome, then he lay dead Get in the car and ball off, eighty-four kept me, I'm gone as fee Fuck this shit, vampin', gettin' up out my luck, he see Hit Horn Lake, then I hit "PV", some shit I wouldn't have done in 9-3 9-4 is the year for pimpin', killin', stealin', robbin' a trick See you my nig, out of the door, comin' out for the 9-4 [Verse 5: Tommy Wright III] I'm treal, I kill, I'm still slangin' and makin' deals The thrill is what I feel when I peel your cap, I'm quick to snap You're trapped once I got this Glock cocked, ready to pop Drop goes the narc, perpetratin', I send your ass to Satan Dead homies, dead roadies, that's what I always see Mamas cryin', partners dyin' is what I saw up in 9-3 Tommy Wright is ready to swarm, just like a thunderstorm Project born, keep my horn from beepin' when a nigga creepin' Dead or alive, 9 to 5 ain't what I strive for I don't fuck with your ass, dude, so what you fuck with mine for? Got my strap, ready to jack, stack my shells real well Ain't no joke, can't go broke, gotta let the pistol smoke Go for broke, killin' folks, will I make it? I don't know 9-3 I played around but not anymore in 9-4 [Outro] I ain't took no shit in '93 and I ain't takin' none in '94