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, with a
I was given from a mayn who ain't give a about his child-ren
I proclaim the name though, in vain no
the change grow, a young nigga who didn't gain from fame
Copped the Range Ro', now they want my brains on the road
They don't understand what I for
How I came fo', a million sold
Who say you can't grow mildew and mold
Gettin like Ross Perot
I'm often told, a the routes I go
Oh that's the 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 loco put holes in my photo
NOPE!, HOPE!, hold toast, no jokes, send slugs your Polo
Just cause our thug solo
And po' zone grown folk, be a cold
Be-low, your grieved up
that the boy see no evil

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

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

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