[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, b**hes start to scream
co*k back, n***as start to flee
Ain't nobody in this motherf**er with me
I'm a dog, I walk what I talk
Detroit n***as see straight through your heart
n***as wanna bark, n***as 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 n***as just scatter off
The boss before that b**h rap that, these b**h made
n***as get their sh** pushed the f** back
[Chorus: Repeat 2x]
You know O Trice spit the hot sh** that's the realest
Keep lacing dope tracks that's the illest
Hot joints for my raw a** n***as
That make motherf**ers go yo
[Obie Trice]
Motherf**ers 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 sh**'s precise
I recite make n***as wanna blast on any punk a** n***a in sight
My focus, to take n***as 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 a** n***a what
[Chorus: Repeat 2x]