Song: 9-1-1

Artist: Boo Yaa Tribe ft. Eminem, B Real

Album: West Koasta Nostra



(As music starts)

Eminem

WHOOOOOOOOO!! 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 em!



(Eminem)

Everywhere we go people know we roll deep as fuck

40 50 Samoans aint no one wanna deal with us

50 Twizzy Obie there won't be no hoe in us

They pop shit like they gonna do shit but no one does

When we move down to Texas back up to Los Angeles

We change the way we move so man up if you can't adjust

You may end up getting rushed by too many to handle us

Its funny I guess money does have its advantages

And it isn't that we just think that we can't be touched

Its 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 ya'll aint gonna be the one who's gonna do it

Cuz first of all you're pushy and everybody can see that

You fuck around get caught in a spot that you shouldn't be at 

That you got no business being in and we aint even gonna be in it

No one's gonna hear nothin no one's gonna see the shit

And they'll be in and up out it them boys is bout it bout it

And the noise from clips n rounds will be drownded out by the crowd

And you'll be layin on the ground getting trampled by people dancing

Till the club closes and clears out and that's when they see you flattened

Nobody saw it happen, all cuz the jaws are flappin

And you couldn't stop yappin and took it passed rappin

It aint about the music no more, its about tryin to show off

And it feels like any minute the bomb is about to go off



Chorus: (Eminem)

Shit's about to change cuz we aint playin no games

We aint budgin neither are they and we aint sayin no names

Shit just aint the same when the cage get to sprayin

Hip Hop is in a state of 9-1-1

It aint about hip hop cuz those days are gone

It aint about tryin to rip shop to get props no more

Its about tryin not to get popped and get dropped to the floor cuz

Hip Hop is in a state of 9-1-1



(Be Real)

I took the strap off my holster cuz shit is getting serious

All these drugs you be fuckin with make you delirious

Thinkin 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 they make us so curious

Mistake us for fakers homey with raider with glorious

We live it for real and others just makin the stories up

Illusions so broken so live it up you corny fucks

If you take a fuckin minute to think about what you done

When you stood against a gangta who live and die by the gun

Caught a hot one sprayin you bitches till there was none

I'm like a rollin stone homey 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 clockin the small digit 

Dealin with a giant goliath people that's how we live it come on



Chorus



(The Godfather)

I'm gangsta gangsta who come to pay you a visit 

On this shit that you call hip hop disfunction is where its headed

When I put it in motion my focus is getting breaded 

My appetite for destruction is blasted because I say we got you

Stumblin for cover this music dyin in number 

But you wouldn't pause and wonder admittin its all glamour when you

Enter the business you thinking you runnin shit

You witness that funny shit you bitches that aint shit 

We gangsta we blast first ask questions later all these 

Imitators paradin like they some playas tryin to

Save hip hop the task is something greater

Cuz we old fashion coded we loyalty motivators 

Getting caught and not telling or more like killin not carin I'm ridin 

A gangsta feelin no ferin when gangtas dyin I'm in a

Food circle with homeys that's suppose to bleed

On a 8 mile mission with Cypress and OG's



Chorus