Obie Trice - Oh



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   [Verse 1 - Obie Trice]
  Yeah, Obie Trice, real name no gimmicks
  I came in the game, profane no image
  I came in the game, with a name
  I was given from a mayn who ain't give a fuck about his child-ren
  I proclaim the name though, never in vain no
  Watch the change grow, a young nigga who didn't gain from fame
  Copped the Range Ro', now they want my brains on the main road
  They don't understand what I came for
  How I came fo', with a million sold
  Who say you can't grow from mildew and mold
  Gettin money like Ross Perot
  I'm often told, a coffin's the routes I go
  Oh that's the road you on, oh no
  I'm down for the rifle, tone the fo fo
  Don't ever try to send a nigga home, no no
  I know you wanna catch me at Sunoco
  Show me that your loco put holes in my photo
  NOPE!, HOPE!, hold toast, no jokes, send slugs through your Polo
  Just cause our thug roll solo
  And po' zone grown folk, be a cold negro
  Be-low, your grieved up people
  Be-lieve that the boy see no evil
  
  [Chorus - Busta Rhymes]
  OHH! I had you yellin out when I backed a 30/30 Rifle
  OHH! Too late for niggaz to get religious and start readin they Bible
  OHH! See you can yell like other niggaz, your pickin a dirty psycho
  OHH! See you should make peace instead of makin me become a psycho
  
  [Verse 2 - Obie Trice]
  I visualized it, O. Trice at 25 survived it
  Bright but violent, invite the violence
  Fist fight a fireman, be a tyrant
  'Til these niggaz nights is silent
  O. Trice from a trife environment
  He 'Rock's the Mic' no sight of retirin
  Maybe when the bank accounts light like a fire thin
  I'm in the position to hire other clients then
  Meanwhile I'm a virus like Iverson
  A nigga crossover, Europeans admirin
  And the soldier's retirin, I ain't buyin
  Motherfuckers actin like you denyin them
  Who tryin a nigga, who use buyers
  I figure your crew tired, my trigger introduces VIOLENCE
  Loose the sirus, you in hospital, orange juice and vitamins
  No coke
  
  [Chorus]
  
  [Verse 3 - Obie Trice]
  A derelict who inherited hustle
  My heritage married the street struggle
  Like a couple of a great unk's ago (yeah)
  So this blood streams through my nuts
  Seems like I wasn't in touch
  When the teacher's ass spoke
  Nope, naw I was just a preacher in oath
  Sit on the bleachers and flip coke
  The only reach you got through my dome
  Niggaz yaffle so the gat'll be chrome
  Pull the window raffle, so I scramble with a track and the phones (woo)
  
  home
  This is rap, but I ain't rappin so you clappin the zone
  Think we trapped in the act, for the sake of performin (nigga)
  This is your warnin, run up on the wrong
  And your tissue is burning a hundred degrees warm [Blaap]
  O. Treezy's gone, my nigga Buzz bring the track back here for 'em
  C'mon
  
  [Chorus]
  




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