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letra de comin' for '94 (genesis greatest hits) - tommy wright iii

[verse 1: princess loko]
here i go
’94 comin’ hard, better known as 9-quad
strictly pimpin’, never caught slippin’
loko’s pullin’ ho cards
violate, split yo’ 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 yo’ 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 real-a, my n-gga pull the trigger
princess ends, makin’ these
bumpin’ junts on yo’ ass, treat these b-tches just like trash
real n-ggas stay around, trayin’ babies never last
pimp and a player, all in one, mind games never fail
never underestimate this pimpin’, ’cause i’m raisin’ h-ll
finna’ vamp, holla 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]
d-mn, that was quick, it’s the ’94, 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 sl!ck, loko has no alibi
homicide, do a crime, ho, don’t waste my f-ckin’ time
blow away yo’ 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 yo’ back
talk that sh-t but weak ass h-ll and smile up in yo’ 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 routine, 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 ’94
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 yo’ head, comin’ hard like a real mac
pistol play mac t, trick drop blow a hole straight in yo’ back
’93, gone g, ’94, 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 t–th, 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 h-rn lake, then i hit “pv”
some sh-t i wouldn’t have done in ’93
’94 is the year for pimpin’, k!llin’, stealin’, robbin’ a trick
see you my nig’, out of the dough, comin’ out for the ’94

[verse 5: tommy wright iii]
i’m treal, i k!ll, i’m still slangin’ and makin’ deals
the thrill is what i feel, when i peel yo’ 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 yo’ ass to satan
dead homies, dead roadies, that’s what i always see
mommas cryin’, partners dyin’ is what i saw up in ’93
tommy wright is ready to swarm, just like a thunderstorm
project born, keep my h-rn 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 yo’ ass dude, so what you f-ck with mine for?
got my strap ready to jack, stack my sh-lls real well
ain’t no joke, can’t go broke, gotta let the pistol smoke
go for broke, k!llin’ folks, will i make it?
i don’t know
’93 i played around but not anymore in ’94
[outro]
i ain’t took no sh-t in ’93 and i ain’t takin’ none in ’94

- tommy wright iii

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