Oh! (feat. Busta Rhymes)

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 man who ain't

Give a fuck about his chitlin

I proclaim the name though

Never in vain, no, watch the change grow

A young **** who done gained from fame

Copped Range Ro'

Now they want my brains on the main road

But they don't understand what I came for

How I came forth 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 **** home, no, no

I know you wanna catch me at Sunoco

Show me that you're loco, put holes in my photo

Nope, oh, hold toast, no jokes

Send slugs through your Polo

Just 'cause O a thug, roll solo

Impose on grown folk, be a cold negro

Below, your grieved up people

Believe that the boy see no evil

Ohh, I had you yellin' out

When I bagged the thirty-thirty rifle

Ohh, too late for **** to get religious

And start readin' they bible

Ohh, see you get down like other ****

Repeatin' they dirty cycle

Ohh, see you should make peace instead

Of makin' me become a psycho

I visualized it, O Trice at 25 survived it

Bright, but violent, invite the violence

Fist fight a fireman, be a Tyrant

Till these **** nights is silent

O Trice from a trife environment

He rocks the mic, no sight of retirin'

Maybe when the bank account's like a Leviathan

I'm in position to hire other clients then

Meanwhile, I'm a virus like Iverson

A **** crossover, Europeans admirin'

And the soldiers retirin', I ain't buyin'

Mothafuckas actin' like you denyin' them

Who tryin' a ****, who use buyers

I figure your crew tired, my trigger introduces violence

Produce them sirens, you in the spittle

Orange juice and vitamins, ****

Ohh, I had you yellin' out

When I bagged the thirty-thirty rifle

Ohh, too late for **** to get religious

And start readin' they bible

Ohh, see you get down like other ****

Repeatin' they dirty cycle

Ohh, see you should make peace instead

Of makin' me become a psycho

A derelict who inherited hustle

My heritage married the street struggle

Like a couple of a great unk's ago

So this blood streams through my nuts

Seems like I wasn't in touch

When the teacher had spoke

Nah, I was just a preacher in oath

Seat on the bleachers and flip coke

The only reachin' got through my dome

**** gaffle so the gat'll be chrome

Pulled the winnin' raffle so I scramble

With a track and the foams

Fuck a actin' 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 burnin' a hundred degrees warm

O Treezy's gone, my **** Bust, bring the hook

Back here for 'em, come on

Ohh, I had you yellin' out

When I bagged the thirty-thirty rifle

Ohh, too late for **** to get religious

And start readin' they bible

Ohh, see you get down like other ****

Repeatin' they dirty cycle

Ohh, see you should make peace instead

Of makin' me become a psycho