Luyện nghe bài hát Oh!

[Verse 1 - Trice]
Yeah, Obie Trice, real no gimmicks
I came in the game, profane no
I came in the game, a name
I was from a mayn who ain't give a fuck about his child-ren
I proclaim the name though, in vain no
Watch the change grow, a young nigga who didn't gain fame
Copped the Ro', now they want my brains on the main road
They don't understand what I for
How I came fo', with a million
Who say you can't grow from mildew and
money like Ross Perot
I'm told, a coffin's the routes I go
Oh the road you on, oh no
I'm down for the rifle, the fo fo
Don't ever try to send a home, no no
I know you wanna me at Sunoco
Show me that your put holes in my photo
NOPE!, HOPE!, hold toast, no jokes, send slugs through Polo
Just cause our roll solo
And po' zone grown folk, be a negro
Be-low, grieved up people
Be-lieve the boy see no evil

[Chorus - Busta
OHH! I had you out when I backed a 30/30 Rifle
OHH! Too late for niggaz to get religious and start readin they
OHH! See you can yell like other niggaz, your pickin a psycho
OHH! See you should make instead of makin me become a psycho

[Verse 2 - Trice]
I visualized it, O. Trice at 25 it
Bright but violent, invite the
Fist a fireman, be a tyrant
'Til these nights is silent
O. Trice a trife environment
He the Mic' no sight of retirin
Maybe when the bank accounts light like a thin
I'm in the to hire other clients then
Meanwhile I'm a virus like
A nigga crossover, admirin
And the soldier's retirin, I buyin
Motherfuckers like you denyin them
Who a nigga, who use buyers
I your crew tired, my trigger introduces VIOLENCE
Loose the sirus, you in hospital, juice and vitamins
No

[Verse 3 - Trice]
A derelict who hustle
My heritage married the street
Like a of a great unk's ago (yeah)
So this blood streams through my
Seems I wasn't in touch
the teacher's ass spoke
Nope, naw I was just a preacher in
Sit on the bleachers and flip
The only you got through my dome
Niggaz so the gat'll be chrome
Pull the window raffle, so I scramble with a track and the (woo)
Fuck a act and a clone, is actual happening's that's factual back in my home
is rap, but I ain't rappin so you clappin the zone
Think we trapped in the act, for the of performin (nigga)
This is your warnin, run up on the
And your tissue is burning a degrees warm [Blaap]
O. Treezy's gone, my nigga Buzz bring the back here for 'em