Analogical Da Poet - My Nine

One for the money
Two for the tragedies
That tore me down and built me back up into your majesty
Three for the demons that stay persistent and battle me
Four to Mobb Deep through all my havoc a prodigy
Five for the Ops waist Put em they place
Six to god be the glory for guiding me through this maze
Seven for the women gave their body to a jerk.
I pray you stopping mid text cause you realizing your worth
Eight for the cops loving metal on our wrist
Unconscious on the ground hear a faint don't resist
Nine to my head just cause the description fit
Martin had dream this ain't it
Martin had dream this ain't it

Martin had dream this ain't it
Martin had dream this ain't it
Martin had dream this ain't it
Another day another dollar as I'm deep in my thought
When nightmares come to life you ain't seen what I fought
They say money is root of all evil you gotta know this
Put my money in the bag like Yo, who you fucking with
Banner mad how I'm seeing green in my vision
I aim with with precision decisive decisions my ammunition
My knowledge my superpower I soak it up and devour
I self serve some scholars tell white lies like Nala
My hood dreams till this day Still Dre want that impala
A celebration you bitches the top back when I holler
Like who's the man, fuck your feelings yea I said it who's the man.

Got my whole hood cutting up like Kitana fans
Lost everything and then I got it all back
Then I lost it again I don't know how to act
I had suicidal thoughts as I talk to my strap
Then I looked in the mirror starting betting on black
See I feel like a King, thanks to Martin Luther
But racist and bigots will never ever accept this future
See I feel like a King, thanks to Martin Luther
But it be your own kind that will mark and loot ya
Kama Sutra maneuvers a vacuum how she hoover me
After back shots I read the kitty her eulogy
Hand on the Bible really asking how I get into heaven

Cause if heaven is on earth I rather just take the severance
My demons eating they wheaties so needy the fucking greedy
Believe me they feeding off my insecurities
So I just be blowing trees
Not a lot be knowing me
To my fam I'm Hercules
Tell these demons suck on Deez
What it look if I got demon murking me
When I'm so high I could land on top of Mercury
Numb to the pain and I'm numb to the world
I told my last ex I wanted a baby girl
Raise a young queen, makes sure knows her worth
Make sure she's knows reality vs perception how they see us on this earth
All cops ain't bad I logically know better

But some of y'all love wasting shells like Master Shredder
And I'm over it nigga put hand on mine
I keep my finger on my tigger so remember My Nine
I keep my finger on my tigger so remember My Nine
I keep my finger on my tigger so remember My Nine
One for the money
Two for the tragedies
That tore me down but built me back up into your majesty
Three for the demons that stay persistent and battle me
Four to Mobb Deep through all my havoc a prodigy
Five for the Ops waist Put em they place
Six to god be the glory for guiding me through this maze
Seven for the women gave their body to a jerk.

I pray you stopping mid text cause you realizing your worth
Eight for the cops loving metal on our wrist
Unconscious on the ground hear a faint don't resist
Nine to my head just cause the description fit
Martin had dream this ain't it
Martin had dream this ain't it
Martin had dream this ain't it
Martin had dream this ain't it
Martin had dream this ain't it
Martin had dream
I keep my finger on my tigger so remember My Nine

Written by:
Emmanuel Cooper Jr.

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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