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[Verse 1]
Yeah...Obie Trice, real name no gimmicks
I came in the game, profane no image
I came in the game with a name I's given
From a mane who ain't give a fuck about his
chit-len
I proclaim the name no, never in vain no,
Watch the change grow
A young nigga who don' gain from fame
Cop the Range Rove
Now they want my brains on the main road
But they don't understand what I came for
I came forth with a million sold
Who said you can't grow from mildew?
And mold, getting money like Ross Perole
I'm often told, a coffin's the route's I go
O that's the roads you on, OH NO
I'm down for the rightful tone of fo-fo
Don't ever try to send a nigga home. (NO, NO)
I know you wanna catch me at Sinoko
Show me that you're loco, put holes in my photo
Nope! Obie! Hold toast no jokes send slugs threw
your Polo
Just cause oh a thug roll solo
Impose on grown folks, be a cold Negro
Be low, you grieved up people
Believe that the boy see no evil
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
Oh...I have you yelling' out when I bag the 30/30
Rifle
Oh...To late for niggaz to get religious and start
reading they Bible
Oh...See you get down like other niggaz you be in
that dirty cycle
Oh...See you should make peace instead of making
me become a psycho
[Verse 2]
I visualized it...
'O Trice at twenty-five survived it,
Pride but violent
Invite the violence, fist fighting the fireman
Beat retirement, 'til these niggaz nights is
silent
'O Trice from a trifling environment
He rocks the mic no sight of retiring
Maybe when the bank accounts light like fire then
I'm in position to hire other clients (bitch)
Mean while I'm a virus like Iverson
A nigga cross-over Europeans and Myaran
And the soldiers retiring
I ain't buying motherfuckers acting like they
denying him
Who trying a nigga whose view's biased
I figure your crews tired
My trigger introduces violence (dudes through
sirens)
You want to spittle Orange Juice and Vitamins
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
Oh...I have you yelling' out when I bag the 30/30
Rifle
Oh...To late for niggaz to get religious and start
reading they Bible
Oh...See you get down like other niggaz you be in
that dirty cycle
Oh...See you should make peace instead of making
me become a psycho
[Verse 3]
A daralent co-inherent hustle
My heritage married the street struggle
Like a couple of great aunt's ago (yeah)
So this blood streams through my nuts
Seems like I wasn't like I wasn't in touch
When the teacher had spoke (NO!)
Now I was just a preacher in 'O
Seat on the bleachers and flip coke
The only reaching that got threw my dome
Niggaz gamble so they gat outta be chrome
Pulled the winning raffle so
I scramble with the track and the foams
Fuck an act and a clone
This is actual happenings that's factual, back in
my home
This is rap, but I ain't rapping so you clap in
the zone
Think you're trapped in the act for the sake of
performing
This is your warning, run upon them wrong
And your tissue was burning a hundred degrees
more!
'O Trizzy gone
My nigga Bust bring the hook back in for 'em.
(Come On)
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
Oh...I have you yelling' out when I bag the 30/30
Rifle
Oh...To late for niggaz to get religious and start
reading they Bible
Oh...See you get down like other niggaz you be in
that dirty cycle
Oh...See you should make peace instead of making
me become a psycho
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Cautari legate de Obie Trice - Oh!
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