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