This is a song about "9"

I knocked you out like anesthesia

Oh yeah, pops got a visa

Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave

I need it my way, i need 9 trays

Coroners comfort your mama

About anything (etc.)

I start to think it's all planned

For about 9 years exact

9 milli or the ruger

I don't know.. what you're lookin' for

Queenzebridge zoo instrumental

My jobs quite hard but see all of its mental