Lyrics:

[Verse 1]

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 mane 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



[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]

Oh...I had you yelling' 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



[Verse 2]

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



[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]

Oh...I have you yelling' 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



[Verse 3]

A daralict 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 gat 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)



[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]

Oh...I have you yelling' 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