Obie Trice feat. Busta Rhymes – Oh!

Obie Trice feat. Busta Rhymes – Oh!
Album: Cheers (2003)
Lyrics (Updated!):

[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 was given from a mayn who ain’t give a fuck about his chitlin
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
But 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 rightful tone of fo’ fo’
Don’t ever try to send a nigga home, no no
I know you wanna catch me at Sunoco
Show me that you’re loco, put holes in my 4 door
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, you grieved up people
Be-lieve that the boy see no evil

[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
Ohh! I had you yellin’ out when I bag the 30/30 Rifle
Ohh! Too late for niggaz to get religious and start readin’ they Bible
Ohh! See you get down like other niggaz repeatin’ the dirty cycle
Ohh! See you should make peace instead of makin’ me become a psycho

[Verse 2]
I visualized it, O. Trice at 25 survived it,
Bright 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 ‘Roc’s the Mic’ no sight of retirin’
Maybe when the bank accounts like leviathan
I’m in 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: Busta Rhymes]
Ohh! I had you yellin’ out when I bag the 30/30 Rifle
Ohh! Too late for niggaz to get religious and start readin’ they Bible
Ohh! See you get down like other niggaz repeatin’ the dirty cycle
Ohh! See you should make peace instead of makin’ me become a psycho

[Verse 3]
A derelict who inherited hustle
My heritage married the street struggle
Like a couple of 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
Pulled the winnin’ raffle so I scramble with a trank and the foams (woo)
Fuck an act and a clone
This is actual happenings that’s factual, back in my home
This is rap, but I ain’t rappin’ so you clap in the zone
Think you’re trapped in the act, for the sake of performin’
This is your warnin’, run up on them wrong
And your tissue is burning a hundred degrees warm (blaap)
O. Treezy’s gone, my nigga Bust bring the hook back in for ’em. (c’mon)

[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
Ohh! I had you yellin’ out when I bag the 30/30 Rifle
Ohh! Too late for niggaz to get religious and start readin’ they Bible
Ohh! See you get down like other niggaz repeatin’ the dirty cycle
Ohh! See you should make peace instead of makin’ me become a psycho