This is a song about "Nine"

I spit murder, every bar is a crime

No religion i was getting saved by the glock nine

I got her head on my cock, doing the six nine

Shoutout yo baby momma, that bitch is sorta fine

It was just fate cause it wasn't my time

So sublime this is where i work 5 to nine

In my hand theres a nine

Cause, i need that one good time

You better get yours fore i reach mine

Rob you on the street with the nine

If they find that stash box just one time

White boy, six foot, packin a nine

I’m sick and tired of criminals, i’m locking up a nine,

But i got two platinum artists, at the same damn time

I drew designs for consumer's minds so in time

One two three four five six seven eight nine