Oh!

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 man who ain't give a fuck about his chit-len
 I proclaim the name tho, 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 Peroe
 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 through your polo
 Just 'cause though 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
 Oh! I had you yellin' out when I backed the 30-30 rifle
 Oh! To late for niggaz to get religious and start reading they Bible
 Oh! See you can yell like other niggaz repeating the dirty cycle
 Oh! See you should make peace instead of making me become a psycho
 I visualized it
 'O Trice at twenty-five survived it
 Pride but violent
 Invite the violence, fist fighting the fireman
 Be a tyrant, 'til these niggaz nights is silent
 'O Trice from a trife environment
 He rocks the mic no sight of retiring
 Maybe when the bank accounts like leviathan
 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
 Oh! I have you yellin' out when I bag the 30-30 rifle
 Oh! To late for niggaz to get religious and start reading they Bible
 Oh! See you can yell like other niggaz repeating the dirty cycle
 Oh! See you should make peace instead of making me become a psycho
 A derelict who inherited 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 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 get 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)
 Oh! I had you yellin' out when I backed a 30-30 rifle
 Oh! To late for niggaz to get religious and start reading they Bible
 Oh! See you can yell like other niggaz who repeating the dirty cycle
 Oh! See you should make peace instead of making me become a psycho