(Intro)
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Man they ain¡¯t comin back for the cocaine
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They came back mace
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Yea!
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Obie Trice
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Yea
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Obie Obie Trice
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It¡¯s that shit, nigga
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Get it real nigga, no gimmicks
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You know what I¡¯m talkin bout
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I need loot
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I need loot
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(Verse)
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Coke boy, oh boy
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Straight out the gutter where niggas have to fight for it
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Risk yo life for it, take flight for it
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Boxin awkward in the game just like Floyd
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Crams rappin, wrappin em up in plastic
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Put a tax on it to ship em off to addicts
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Yall ain¡¯t gotta aks about my actions
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I was back in from the hood, a crack activist
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(I need loot)
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Nah I ain¡¯t blow dough, sold it on the low low
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Hustle up enough to put rims on the 4 door
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Hoes in the momo, Obie it¡¯s yo dolo
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Motorola explode, I was deeply chased though
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And I erase hoes
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Bought some foreign cuts now where¡¯s the pesos
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O in the Oldsmobile, holdin on the dollar bill
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Just forget a holler for lil mama or maybe Fields
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Guess I¡¯m a real nigga first
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Caught a thrill when I¡¯m pushin them pills, watch it disperse
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Hoppin out the waffle house, with problem I phase you
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Pager on my waist could probably feed a nation
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(Hook)
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I mean look
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Straight slingin rocks
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Oh man they come so crooked as¡¦ Trice!
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Get it real nigga, no gimmicks
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Pack guns, ridiculous
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(Verse)
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Hopin out the whips to straight out of this dixon
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Throw a bar, eagle on the nine and you dip it
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Super daddy-o, the champ sound audio
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Those 15¡¯s, I¡¯m the man in the body-o
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Allow me to take it back to 92
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With a 40 ounce blue and a nigga like John Kru
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Disrespect me, I gotta go see what the ruga do
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Niggas don¡¯t follow, you be with the losers prove
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Beneath the core or whoever we love before
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Cuz whoever we lovin now keep openin heaven¡¯s door
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Cuz they comin for sure, post-mortem some orphan
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Forced to go up the hate, Obie Trice Aldrin
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Kushin the tourists, wrapped up oranges
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Drop it down somewhere cordial, don¡¯t need a tourist
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Tourist only here from some case, you can¡¯t afford this
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Money take a nigga through curses
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Nigga I work for this, I murk for this
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I erase your loved one who birthed yo bitch
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Have mercy on them law that¡¯s so powerful is
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I kept a pistol on my purse and chest for this just for this
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(Hook)
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I mean look
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Straight slingin rocks
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Oh man they come so crooked as¡¦ Trice!
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Get it real nigga, no gimmicks
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Pack guns, ridiculous
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(Verse)
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Crack poppin, Obie know where it markin
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Often mama had a problem with my logic
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She ain¡¯t never stopped so she dead, rest in peace Eleanor
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All she ever wanted for them boys was what¡¯s better for em
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What you think I¡¯m sellin for way before the bell out
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Reapers on the porch watch a lady hit a mel out
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First in 15, nigga hoe sex sell out
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No disrespect, boy you wind up in yo mama shit
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I¡¯m just a hustler on some dope boy gunner smith
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(Outro)
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Straight slingin rocks
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I¡¯m just a hustler on some dope boy gunner smith
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Straight slingin rocks
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I¡¯m just a hustler on some dope boy gunner smith
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Yea!
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Loot
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Obie Trice |