Luyện nghe bài hát Oh!

[Verse 1 - Obie
Yeah, Obie Trice, real no gimmicks
I came in the game, profane no
I in the game, with a name
I was given from a who ain't give a fuck about his child-ren
I proclaim the though, never in vain no
Watch the change grow, a young who didn't gain from fame
Copped the Range Ro', now they want my brains on the road
don't understand what I came for
How I fo', with a million sold
Who say you grow from mildew and mold
Gettin money like Perot
I'm often told, a the routes I go
Oh that's the you on, oh no
I'm for the rifle, tone the fo fo
Don't ever try to send a home, no no
I know you catch me at Sunoco
Show me that your put holes in my photo
NOPE!, HOPE!, hold toast, no jokes, send slugs through your
Just cause our thug solo
And po' zone grown folk, be a negro
Be-low, grieved up people
Be-lieve that the boy see no

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

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

[Verse 3 - Trice]
A who inherited hustle
My heritage the street struggle
Like a couple of a great ago (yeah)
So this blood streams through my
Seems I wasn't in touch
When the ass spoke
Nope, naw I was a preacher in oath
Sit on the bleachers and flip
The only reach you got through my
yaffle 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 so you clappin the zone
Think we trapped in the act, for the of performin (nigga)
This is warnin, run up on the wrong
And your tissue is burning a hundred degrees warm
O. Treezy's gone, my nigga Buzz bring the track back for 'em