92 Songtext
von Obie Trice

Oh boy, oh boy
Straight out the gutter where niggas had to fight for it
Risk your life for it, take flight for it
Boxing awkward in the game just like Floyd
Grams rapid, wrapping them up in plastic
Put a tax on it to ship them off to addicts
Y′all ain't gotta ask about my actions
I was active in the hood, a crack activist

Nah, I ain′t blow though, sold it on the low-low
Hustle up enough to put grams on the photo
Hoes in the mo-mo, Obie is so dolo
Motorola explode, I was needing to chase dough

Erase hoes
Por favor, custo, where's the pesos?
O in the Oldsmobile, holding on the dollar bill
Just to get a holler from little mama or maybe feels


Real nigga first
Caught a thrill when I'm pushing them pills, watch them disperse
Hopping out the Waffle House, what problem I′m facing?
Pager on my waist could probably feed a nation

"Get your hustle"
"Nigga whole sex sell out"
I said pager on my waist could probably feed a nation
"Chase dough"
"Get your hustle on"

Jump out the whips that′s straight out of the sticks and
Throw a bald eagle on 'em, now a nigga dipping

Shoot the netty on the jam sound audio
Those 15′s, I'm the man in mi barrio
Allow me to take you back to 90 deuce
With a 40 ounce brew and a nickel and dime crew
Disrespect Big Guy, go see what the Ruger do
Years don′t follow, you be where the losers brew


Beneath the core with whoever you love before
Cause whoever you loving now keep open that heaven's door
Cause they coming for sure
Post mortem, some orphan
Forced to grow up to hate Obie Trice origin
Pushing the Taurus, wrapped up oranges
Mapping out somewhere cordial to meet a tourist
Tourist on the hip just in case he can′t afford this
Wanna take a nigga precursors
Nigga I work for this

I murk for this
I erase your loved one who birthed your bitch
Have mercy on them Lord, superfluous
I kept a pistol on my person just for this, just for this

"92"
"Definitely you need to get your hustle on"
"92"
"Dope boy"
"I sure hope somebody's listening to what I'm saying"
"92"

Crack popping, Obie′s nowhere mopping
Often, mama had a problem with my logic
She ain′t never stop shit, rest in peace Eleanor
All she ever wanted for them boys is what's better for ′em
What you think I'm selling for?
Way before the bail out
We was on the porch watching lady get a mail out
First and fifteenth, nigga whole sex sell out
No disrespect boy, it might have been your mama′s shit
I'm just a hustler on some dope boy garnishment

92