[Verse 1]
It's like root beer, one of a kind
Spice 1 is up in the house with the n***ata-n***ata-nine
And the clip and the trigger
Motherfuckers try to play me yet they callin' me they n***a
Should I get the AK and jump like Jack?
Or should I just reanimate the motherfuckin' Fac?
My name is Spice 1, but I be comin' up like I'm 2
Or maybe 3 or 4, just a motherfuckin' crew
Late night, seen a drive-by drop Impala
The n***as took cover and the bitches all holler
If you think it's sick, then, n***a, just throw up
I'm quick to bust a cap and leave your fuckin' dome tore up
'Cause livin' up in the Bay is like a motherfuckin' zoo
Every n***a do whatever the fuck he gotta do
The motherfuckin' rhyme did the crime last century
Now it's on parole because my mouth's in penitentiary
But back to the ghetto, you see just about it all
Rest in peace to dead n***as on the wall
The shit'll never stop because a n***a killed the cop
And now the cops are killin' the n***as 24 around clock
Around the block, around the road in every ghetto
Motherfuckers wanna drop, so I'm livin' like the Devil
With the underground pound, murder facul sound
So n***as that fuck around, lay around
And before I end this rhyme
I'd like to say peace to my motherfuckin' nine
[Interlude]
The—the nine, the—the nine, the nine, the nine millimeter
The nine, the—the nine, the—the nine millimeter

[Verse 2]
Shootin' dice with some n***as that I didn't know
He pulled a nine when the double 4 hit the floor
I wonder why he wanna play me like a punk bitch
I thought he knew I was the one to let the nine click
I played his ass like Jesse James and shot him in the throat
I picked the tongue up off my mails, now I'm outty, hoe
I'm stressin', it's a fucked up world, G
I think about the shit that I used to see
N***as runnin' 'round with the street sweepers
Motherfuckers layin' dead, loose change, beepers
Bitches screamin' about the n***as gettin' fucked up
Fuck his bitch too, she was stuck up
187, motherfucker, that my showcase
I'll load the clip and kill a whole motherfuckin' race
I'm stressed out like a motherfucker
Bitch got me for a twenty, damn clucka
Yeah, you're right, I'm livin' wrong, G
And I never gave a fuck about a dope fiend family
I seen a dope fiend killed last week
Left a bloody base pipe in the street
They burnt the bitch up in the trunk, over eighty dollars
Started drivin' around the hood and I can hear her holler
Smoke comin' from the trunk, bitch burnin' up
Cops turnin' down the streets, they was turnin' up
I'm hearin' shots ring out, 12 o'clock at night
A car full of dead n***as in the midnight
Because they gave the cops a reason just to shoot 'em up
Now they taping shit off, so, yo, suit 'em up
And before I end this rhyme
I'd like to say peace to my motherfuckin' nine
[Interlude]
The—the nine, the—the nine, the nine, the nine millimeter
The nine, the—the nine, the—the nine millimeter

[Verse 3]
The police was comin', I had to dump the body
But like I said on the city streets, I'm John Gotti
When it comes to the gangster rap shit
I do a drive-by, murder your whole clique
See, I'm a rebel without a pulse
'Cause in my neighborhood you learn not to walk without a nine in your draws
It's like American Express
Because a lot of crazy n***as wanna spill your flesh
But some crazy jealous motherfuckers never sleep
I'm gettin' C.B. banner on my beep, beep, beep
Fill a n***a to the rim like brim
Do a drive-by while I'm suckin' on the Endo stem
Mix Hennessy with Thunderbird, Gin and juice
I'm high as fuck fuckin' 'round with 187 proof
Hard as a nickel, but I'm quick as fuck to drop a dime
Because my boys got a n***a back prime time
Rata-tata-tat-tat
Any bitch wanna squab, it's like that
Cause I ain't goin' out like a fag
Got the n***a for a ounce and a Jag
I straight trip and pop the clip
Now I'm gettin' rich off his sip
Pick up my boys on the block and it's on
Slangin' dope by the drug-free zone
Straight gangster mack
Kis over kis over Gs I stack
So when you step, step with caution
'Cause a nine to your throat'll have you caughin'
The S-P-I-C-E
In a rage with a gauge gettin' P-A-I-D
I ain't goin' out, fuck Mickey Ds
I'd rather pimp hoes and clock Gs
'Cause that's what a real n***a do to make a livin'
The talent of pimp was naturally given
And before I end this rhyme
I'd like to say peace to my motherfuckin' nine
[Outro]
Yeah
I wanna say peace to my other motherfuckin' nine
Yeah, Ant motherfuckin' Ba—Ba—Booga—Booga motherfuckin' Banks
I wanna say what up to my n***a G motherfuckin' mzz-Nut
Yeah, I wanna say what up to that girl Shorty motherfucking B in the motherfuckin' house
And my motherfuckin' DJ
Xtra motherfuckin' Large, go on with your big ass, yeah
My n***a M.C. motherfuckin' Ant
Kickin' that funky shit with Spice motherfuckin' 1
187 in the motherfuckin' house, peace