[obie trice]
yo, obie trice, yo
i'm with backdoor productions, no discussion,
o trice be the sound that's rushin your eardrums
pump it up if you feeling em, this is hip hop pure adrenaline
i'm a winner, i step on the scene
start to cipher, bitches start to scream
cock back, niggas start to flee
ain't nobody in this motherfucker with me
i'm a dog, i walk what i talk
detroit niggas see straight through your heart
niggas wanna bark, niggas get traced in chalk
by the law in the adam car with this rap i be at em all
i spit through the mic and niggas just scatter off
the boss before that bitch rap that, these bitch made
niggas get their shit pushed the fuck back
[chorus: repeat 2x]
you know o trice spit the hot shit that's the realest
keep lacing dope tracks that's the illest
hot joints for my raw ass niggas
that make motherfuckers go yo
[obie trice]
motherfuckers ain't trying to see mr. trice
yo i pump up the party, pump nut up in ya wife
me and you, two different types
you wanna be hardcore while my shit's precise
i recite make niggas wanna blast on any punk ass nigga in sight
my focus, to take niggas minds over
somebody's murdered once my rhyme's over
i do this the regular way
a regular cat with an irregular verbal spray
you know my thoughts deep when it runs
a weirdo sleeping with mad guns
who want some, you can have it, semi-automatic catch the trace around
you be lost and found
chalked up with obie trice branded on ya ass nigga what
[chorus: repeat 2x] |