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