911 Songtext
von Boo‐Yaa T.R.I.B.E.

Woo-hoo
Hahaha
Guess who′s back?
Mommy, we're home
Say hello to my little friends
DJ Muggs, Soul Assassins, Cypress Hill
Everybody, put your hands where my eyes can see


Everywhere we go people know we roll deep as fuck
Forty fifty Samoans, they knowin′ when D-Bo was
50, Tweezy, Obie, there won't be no ho in us
They pop shit like they're gonna do shit but no one does
From New York down to Texas, back up to Los Angeles
We′ve changed the way we move, so man up if you can′t adjust
You may end up gettin' rushed by too many to handle us (ha)
It′s funny, I guess money does have its advantages
And it isn't that we just think that we can′t be touched
It's not like we′re just feelin' ourselves that much
It's just, that if someone ever does put us in the clutch
We just know that y′all ain′t gon' be the one who′s gon' do it
′Cause first of all you're pussy and everybody can see that
You fuck around get caught in a spot that you shouldn′t be at
That you got no business bein' in, we ain't even gon′ be in it
No one′s gonna hear nothing, no one's gonna see this shit
And they′ll be in and up out it, them boys is 'bout it, ′bout it
And the noise from clips and rounds'll be drowned out by the crowd
And you′ll be layin' on the ground gettin' trampled by people dancing
′Til the club closes and clears out
And that′s when they see you flattened
Nobody saw it happen, all 'cause your jaws are flappin′
And you couldn't stop yappin′ and took it past rappin'
It ain′t about the music no more, it's 'bout trying to show off
And it feels like any minute the bomb is about to go off

Shit′s about to change, ′cause we ain't playin′ no games
We ain't budgin′, neither are they, and we ain't sayin′ no names
Shit just ain't the same, when the AK's get to sprayin′
(Hip hop is in a state of 9-1-1)
It ain′t about hip hop, 'cause those days are gone
It ain′t about tryna rip shots to get props no more
It's about try not to get popped, and get dropped to the floor
′Cause (hip hop is in a state of 9-1-1)


Took a step off my holster 'cause shit it′s gettin' serious
All theses drugs you be fuckin' with make you delirious
Thinking you comin′ with heat, yo son, I′m curious
How long are you gonna hate us and judge us and jury us?
Some people can never fade us, that make us so furious
Mistake us for fakers, homie, we greater and glorious
We livin' for real and others just makin′ the stories up
Illusions are broken, so live it up, you corny fucks
If you take a fuckin' minute to think about what you′ve done
When you stood against a gangsta who live and die by the gun
Caught a hot one, sprayin' you bitches ′til there is none
I'm like a Rolling Stone, homie, I got you under my thumb
You silly little bitches can end up right up in ditches
We cut you and give you stitches for envyin' all our riches
Your game′s just like a midget, you′re clockin' a small digit
Dealin′ with the Giant Goliath, people, that's how we live it, come on

Shit′s about to change, 'cause we ain′t playin' no games
We ain't budgin′, neither are they, and we ain′t sayin' no names
Shit just ain′t the same, when the AK's get to sprayin′
(Hip hop is in a state of 9-1-1)
It ain't about hip hop, ′cause those days are gone
It ain't about tryna rip shots to get props no more
It's about try not to get popped, and get dropped to the floor
′Cause (hip hop is in a state of 9-1-1)

Uh, gangsta, gangsta who come to pay you a visit
On this shit you call hip hop, this function is where did it
When I put it in motion, my focus is gettin′ branded
My appetite for destruction is blasted because I said it
Got you stumbling for cover, this music dyin' in numbers
But you wouldn′t pause and wonder, admittin' it′s all glamour
When you enter the business you thinkin' you runnin′ shit
You witness that funny shit, your bitches, they ain't shit
We gangsta, we blast first, ask questions later
All these imitators parading like they some playas
Tryna save hip hop, the task is somethin' greater
′Cause we old fashioned coded with loyalty motivators
Get caught, I′m not tellin', or more like killin′ not carin'
I′m ridin' a gangsta feeling, no fearin′ when gangsta's dyin'
I′m in a full circle with homies that′s supposed to bleed
On an 8 Mile mission with Cypress and OG's

Shit′s about to change, 'cause we ain′t playin' no games
We ain′t budgin', neither are they, and we ain't sayin′ no names
Shit just ain′t the same, when the AK's get to sprayin′
(Hip hop is in a state of 9-1-1)
It ain't about hip hop, ′cause those days are gone
It ain't about tryna rip shots to get props no more
It′s about try not to get popped, and get dropped to the floor
'Cause (hip hop is in a state of 9-1-1)