[Obie Trice]
Yo, Obie Trice, yo
I'm with backdoor productions, no discussion
O Trice be the sound that's rushin your eardrums
Pump it up if you feeling em, this is hip hop pure adrenaline
I'm a winner, I step on the scene
Start to cipher, bitches start to scream
Cock back, n***as start to flee
Ain't nobody in this motherfucker fuckin' with me
I'm a dog, I walk what I talk
Detroit n***as see straight through your heart
N***as wanna bark, n***as get traced in chalk
By the law in the adam car with this rap I be at em all
I spit through the mic and n***as just scatter off
The boss before that bitch rap that, these bitch made
N***as get their shit pushed the fuck back

[Chorus: Repeat 2x]
You know O Trice spit the hot shit that's the realest
Keep lacing dope tracks that's the illest
Hot joints for my raw ass n***as
That make motherfuckers go yo

[Obie Trice]
Motherfuckers ain't trying to see Mr. Trice
Yo I pump up the party, pump nut up in ya wife
Me and you, two different types
You wanna be hardcore while my shit's precise
I recite make n***as wanna blast on any punk ass n***a in sight
My focus, to take n***as minds over
Somebody's murdered once my rhyme's over
I do this the regular way
A regular cat with an irregular verbal spray
You know my thoughts deep when it runs
A weirdo sleeping with mad guns
Who want some, you can have it, semi-automatic catch the trace around
You be lost and found
Chalked up with Obie Trice branded on ya ass n***a what
[Chorus: Repeat 2x]