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

[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 lyrics

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