9mm lyrics - 8ball & MJG

Boom, oh shit, I'm hit

Is there a doctor in the house?

Shit, I'm hit

Damn, I think I'm dyin'

Shit, I'm hit

Please call the doctor

Shit, I'm hit

Boom, oh shit, I'm hit

Is there a doctor in the house?

Shit, I'm hit

Damn, I think I'm dyin'

Shit, I'm hit

Please call the doctor

Shit, I'm hit

Yeah

Tight grip on the TEC-9, now it's time to creep

Hollow tips in the clips, puttin' suckers in a deep sleep

Win, lose, or draw your shit, die if you ain't quick enough

Or end up at 201, just because you think you tough

Niggas in the med, now they dead, from the Uzi round

Trick was found, bloody on the ground, down in Orange Mound

Hole in his dome, from the chrome that my hand held

Cuts on the ho where I whooped him with the fanbelt

Bitches think I'm soft 'cause I treat them with respect

But I won't hesitate to smoke a bitch with my TEC

Nine millimeter beater if I feel that I should hit that ho

Smack, step back, then watch that ho hit the floor

Niggas on the gank might do better at a bank

'Cause I'm packin' what you lackin' and I'm shootin' like a tank

It's the P-I-M-P, uh

The funky M-C, uh

The nigga that's droppin' them bitches with my nine millimeter

One little, two little, three little tricks

Four little, five little bitches on my dick

Six little, seven little, eight little niggas

Make nine little millimeter boys

Nine little millimeter, nigga, how you figure

It's a chance? Talkin' shit with your gun in your pants

I'ma step on your ass like a stepbrother

Looks as if to me that you a motherfuckin' death lover

Weak ass boy with a toy on the streets

Cappin' on the right motherfucker 'til he meet

The wrong motherfuckin' pimp, tight operator

Who shoot a nigga first, and then reason with him later

Now punks trip me out with a gun and no clip

Catchin' nothin' but a charge 'cause he wanna be hip

But you slipped anyway, when you left without your bullets

Now be a stupid fool, reach for it, then pull it

But you ain't, 'cause you can't pull a gun with no ammo

You thinkin' you can beat it but you know you ain't Rambo

So it's best you try to beg for your life to stay alive

'Cause tricks gettin' they dome blown away with twenty-five (Boom)

And I'm about to pop me in a clip and get hip

You better pack your bags, 'cause you goin' on a trip

This shit is thick as Heinz, and this shit is gettin' thicker

For the nine little millimeter, nigga

Boom, oh shit, I'm hit

Is there a doctor in the house?

Shit, I'm hit

Damn, I think I'm dyin'

Shit, I'm hit

Please call the doctor

Shit, I'm hit

Boom, oh shit, I'm hit

Is there a doctor in the house?

Shit, I'm hit

Damn, I think I'm dyin'

Shit, I'm hit

Please call the doctor

Shit, I'm hit