[Intro: Eminem]
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WAAAAHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOO!!! [laughs]
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Guess who's back?!?!
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Mommy! We're home!!
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Say hello to my little friends
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DJ Muggs, Soul Assassins, Cypress Hill
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Everybody! Put your hands where my eyes can see!!!
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[Verse: Eminem]
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Everywhere we go people know that we roll deep as fuck
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Fourty fifty Samoans, they knowing when D-Bo was
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50, Tweezy, Obie there won't be no hoe in us
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They pop shit like they gon do shit but no one does
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From New York down to Texas, back up to Los Angeles
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We've changed the way we move so man up if you can't adjust
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You may end up getting rushed by too many to handle us
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It's funny, I guess money does have its advantages
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And it isn't that we just think that we can't be touched
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It's not like we're just feeling ourselves that much
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It's just, that if someone ever does put us in the clutch
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We just know that y'all ain't gon be the one who's gon do it
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Cause first of all you're pussy and everybody can see that
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You fuck around, get caught in a spot that you shouldn't be at
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That you got no business being in, we ain't even gon be in it
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No one's gunna hear nothing, no one's gunna see this shit
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And they'll be in and up out of it, them boys is bout it, bout it
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The noise from (?) be drowned out by the crowd
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And you'll be laying on the ground getting trampled by people dancing
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Till the club closes, and clears out
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And that's when they see you flatened
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Nobody saw it happen, all cause your jaws are flapping
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And you couldn't stop yapping and took it past rapping
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It ain't about the music no more, it's bout trying to show off
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And it feels like any minute the bomb is bout to go off
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[Chorus: Eminem]
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Shit's about to change, cause we ain't playing no games
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We ain't budging neither are they, we ain't saying no names
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Shit just ain't the same, when the K's get to scream
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Hip-hop is in a state of 911
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It ain't about hip-hop, cause those days are gone
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It ain't about trying rip shots, to get props no more
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It's about trying not to get popped, and get dropped to the floor
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Cause hip-hop is in a state of 911
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[Verse: B-Real]
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Step off my holster cause shit it's getting serious
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All theses drugs you be fucking with make you delirious
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Thinking you coming with heat, yo son, I'm curious
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How long are you gunna hate us and judge us and jury us?
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Some people can never fade us, that make us so furious
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Mistake us for fakers, homie we greater and glorious
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We living for real and others just making the stories up
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Allusions are broken, so live it up, you corny fucks
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If you take a fucking minute to think about what you've done
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When you stood against a gangsta who live and die by the gun
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Got a hot one, spraying you bitches til there is none
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I'm like a rolling stone homie, I got you under my thumb
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Silly little bitches can end up right up in ditches
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We cut you and give you stitches, for envy and all my riches
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Your game's just like a midget, you're clocking a small digit
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Dealing with the Giant Goliath, people that's how we live it, c'mon
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[Chorus]
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[Verse: Ganxsta Ridd]
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Uh, gangsta Ganxsta who come to pay you a visit
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On this shit you call hip-hop, this function is where did it
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When I - put it in motion, my focus is getting branded
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My appetite for destruction is blasted because I said it
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Got you - stumbling for cover, this music dying in numbers
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But you wouldn't pause and wonder, admitting it's all glamour
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When you - enter the business you thinking you running shit
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You witness that funny shit, your bitches they ain't shit!
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We gangstas we blast first, ask questions later
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All these - imitators parading like they some playas
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Trying to - save hip-hop the task is something greater
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Cause we old fashioned coded with loyalty motivaters
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Get caught, I'm not telling, or more like killing not caring
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I'm riding a - gangsta feeling, no fearing when gangstas dying
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I'm in a - full circle with homies that's supposed to bleed
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On an 8 Mile mission with Cypress and O.G.'s
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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911
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| Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. |
