Comin’ For ’94 (Genesis Greatest Hits) 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 f*ckin' nig'
Talkin' all that bullsh*t sissy b*tch, can't you dig?
Keep the chrome in my coat, bullets in my clip, ho
Slap your ass with that Glock, b*tch, because you too slow
'93, long gone, '94, you know, it's on, that trappin' sh*t done played out, now it's time to tote the tone
Makin' ends, keepin' cheese, smokin' blunts, pushin' keys
For realer my n*gga, pull the trigger, Princess ends, makin' these
Bumpin' junts on your ass, treat these b*tches just like trash
Real n*ggas 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, f*ck daytime, I creep at night
Runnin' from the folks, jumpin' fences, all that sh*t 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 b*tches, Princess Loko
[Verse 3: Princess Loko]
Motherf*ckin' '94, hoes get they skull popped
Motto for the 9-quad: Get this f*ckin' knowledge dropped
To you b*tches flankin', perpetratin' of a player style
Real sh*t, too slick, Loko has no alibi
Homicide, do a crime, ho, don't waste my f*ckin' time
Blow away your brain, with this four-five in my panty line
n*ggas on my f*ckin' jock and hoes is envy of this pimp
I'm hittin' so f*ckin' hard, you hoes in jail cannot f*ck with this
Lady Mack, in the black, hit the track and sell my crack
Keep a low profile, because these b*tches be behind your back
Talk that sh*t but weak ass hell and smile up in your f*ckin' face
Plottin' to the next n*gga, how they can get my fame erased
Just can't stand to see a n*gga be on top and make some ends
I don't have associates and sure don't have no f*ckin' friends
Ridin' with my partners, Paranoid and T-W
Don't start no sh*t, won't be no sh*t, I got no time, to f*ck with you
Got some static, ain't no ana, they don't wanna do sh*t, player
Shank a b*tch and take her sh*t, a motherf*ckin' ho slayer
Caught one time to lock me up, I'm chillin' in a jail cell
Used the phone and got much clout, my n*ggas made my f*ckin' 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, b*tches, you can't f*ck with me
Kickin' it with T-W and M-A-C-T-D-O-G
4 Corners and Pimpin' "V", creepin', 'cause this how we be
Real ass n*ggas 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 sh*t 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 barr none of you b*tches junt
On a stroll just took control you n*ggas '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 n*gga Tommy Wright cheefin' out
Make that turn on murderer street, yo, pop up at my n*gga house
Pick 'em up, we cheefin', mane, headed to the liquor store
Seen this n*gga 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 a [?]
f*ck this sh*t, vampin' in [?]
Hit Horn Lake, then I hit "PV"
Some sh*t 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 dough, 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 off with the snap
You're trapped once I got this Glock c*cked, 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 n*gga creepin'
Dead or alive, 9 to 5 ain't what I strive for
I don't f*ck with your ass, dude, so what you f*ck 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 sh*t in '93 and I ain't takin' none in '94