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[Nine]I waste MC's like timewho wanna know the incredible original NineBurnin MC's at degrees of five-hundred farenheitDrop em back to celsius, lord help me it's insanePop like tops on 40 o-z'sMake cheese, while you sweat me for the proceedsI survived cause I strivedthen I cock back my fist and PUNCH out ya insidesWho's left, cause Nine got rightsI squeeze tecs like spandex mad tight (right right)One on one, don't you make me buck you with my gun, babyI'm tired of playing all these gamesIt seems like I-yah can't get time out anymoreMy name is Nine and your name is mudWhen I come down, I-yah haffa come down rawJust say, ohh, ohh, listen to the Nine my style is fatJust say, no, no, sucker MC's know they rhymes are wackJust say, oh take your best shot, lemme see whatcha gotAin't got a lot, run from red dot, spot like copOh lord, I got the drop, shot the blood claatNon-stop, pop pop pop pop goes the gatStill fat, still blackI still rap, and yo' ass is stilL WACKWho's that nigga with the booyaka?It's the one and only Nine and I'm doin yaLetras de cancionesWeeded daily, always pack a half ounce GPut springs in your boots and still can't outbounce me(Check one check two check tree)Check as many as you want, but come check me, N-I-N-EChorus: Nine (repeat 2X)Oh God I got Da FundamentalzNine'll grab the mic and rip up a instrumentalOh God I got Da FundamentalzNine'll grab the mic and rip up a instrumental[Nine]Rock, the body body, rock the body bodyNine wants a hottie that treats me like I'm daddy daddyThe format I use, steps on blue suede shoesI guzzle brews then mic check ONE TWOI shake and bake the world, rearrangelike the chemical jheri curl, drink til I earl*throws up* Excuse me, where was I? Stay flyNever ran, never will, do or dieChocolate thai got me liftedNo mistake, hit like a earthquake, son I'm giftedN-I-N-E, came up in lightsI rock mics, down with street fights and chalice pipesNiggaz know my steelo I'm 40 BelowDeep flow, act like you fuckin knowInfrared beams, baggy jeans, mic screensCaffeine and nicotine makes me fiend I'm mean like Joe GreeneDown with a team, on point like the damn laser beamIt ain't no fuckin dreamI pull styles out my ass like doodoo (SHIT)Nine makes MC's quick quick flick the Bic to the izzLight, pull smoke, blow it in your areawith jaws, like a pitbull terrierI attack instrumentals with Fundamentalzoff the head, no pen, no paper, no pencilsWith the device I'm nice, if the price is rightI tear the motherfucker up all nightBomb diddy bomb ba dang a dangI got slang like Wu-Tang not many can hangChorus[Nine]For those who are unawareThis is another Fed Production warningto all wack, sucker ass, punk ass crewsAnd all you industry niggaz who was sleepingNow's your wake-up call, punk..Bob Lewis, Nine, Tony Stoute, Al BlountThe crew, is in effectYou cannot stop thisProtect your fuckin neck From Letras Mania