Obie Trice

Cry Now


Eminem Presents The Re-Up,5 mins, 10 secs

Cry Now
  • Cry Now


Stat Quo

Old mix
Back nigga
Second rounds on me
Stat Quo
Bobby Creekwater
Obie Trice

Niggas didn't kill me
Now a niggas gon' get
Peel my cap back
I'm never at home
I'm somewhere
With my shaft restin' on a ho's tongue
Sippin' on some Don Perignon
While she's sippin' up them newborns
Yeah bet you hate the news holmes
You probably somewhere
Sittin' on the stoop huh
Sippin' on the brew
Plottin' to pop me later huh
When will a hater learn
I'm too great on a song
I push weight on the corner
Send weight to the coroner
When courage make 'em turn performer
I transform into Uma Thurman
A dude's virgin
Verses lettin' superfulious
With no purpose nigga
Continue to walk this earth's surface
I was birthed for hip-hop
Branch out my services
Ya try to murder this nigga
That's comin' from the same turf as yas
What nerves have yas
Pissed because your hussles ain't worth a shit
I'm gettin' rich
I'm on my way to Hugh Hefner's
With a bitch
You in the trenches tryin' to reach it big
On another rapper's dick
Go on represent where you live
Know you annoyed
But don't make the mistake
I'm state to state in that Honda nigga
Not an Accord
I'm in that Honda G4 you will never afford
And yup it's probably easy when a nigga is on board

I know
Cry now
I know
Cry now
I know
Cry now
Nigga cry now

I'll be damned if I let a nigga lay his hands on me
I'll lay his ass out
And park a Grand Am on him
The city where the weak survive
And the strong die
Where beef collides
Shootouts happen and hit the wrong guy
I done seen the worst of the worst
And what can be worse
Than a verse about bullets
Dispersed up in your shirt
The streets is like a curse
Niggas frontin' for a bitch
It's like you beggin' to die
Like bear huntin' with a switch
A part of my heart is gone
I could never smile the same
Trigger finger is itchy
It'll take awhile to tame
Detroit is hella dirty
But the dozen can fix it
Resist and the biscuit will exceed the distance
And bounce off one's home
Hit and ricochet off a kid's trombone
Right to where you niggas lay
Obie can tell you that death is just a few inches away
Y'all shed tears
But y'all can get your feel of it today


Obie they gotta fuck with us this time nigga
Bobby Creek

Laugh now
Cry never
My Beretta is a body part
Hit him with just enough shots
To make his body hard
Now I feel like we even
See Creek is here to shine a light on you niggas
Soon as I get my karma right on Lindsay Rose
I'm leavin'
Load up a clip
And make it dark on them heroes cheesin'
Shit they got snitches on the clock
Gotta watch what I'm sayin'
Me buy a bitch a couple rocks
And the watch quit playin'
Back on my greasy
My neezy
Nobody bread whippin'
And for them fuckin' spectators
I brought the band with me
Halftime niggas
And grab pine
You will never grab mine nigga
The dolli's was lyin'
When he said you was gon' be fine nigga


Witness art of war
In the physical
Since raw coke was rushed through my umbilical
And no words from Cash mouth is fixin'
Ready with dope clips
I'm ever dissin'
My aura of war is raw to the core
The surface of the street
When I walk through the door
My purpose is to move up
Pull tools
You perpin'
Watch me overthrow the government
In my turban
Plot up and line up
Solo mia
Prayin' to proof
I'm searchin for Cherry Garcia
Talk to my brother
Gone in the streets of the D
I'm talkin' to K
And hopin' niggas waitin' on me
Take the first shot then
The second rounds on me
And when the wars on the other side
Me and my brother ride
I don't rap for the plaques
My contracts signed just for scraps
To get you whack nigga
With a gun with a with a bat
Take a slug through the lung
Get you right what you rappin' nigga
I'm born crazy raised in more fame
It's the clappin' down bang
It's for entertainment


Young Stat keep the gat
On tuck
Want war
I don't give a fuck
Shot till you kiss
Pucker up
It'll lift 'em up
Believe me you'll flow
The result is your family heart broke
Lookin' like an artichoke
Ho's stiff
Nigga paralyzed from the neck down
My goon stick niggas
Turn soldiers to stick figures
Hand on triggers
Real life born killers
We roll out like four wheelers
God sent us
From backstabbers and gold diggers
Tipsy off brown liquor
Watch me
Broad call me cocky
Poppin' long dick
Stabbed it out the box like hockey
Especially when a bitch ride it like jockey
From the Benz to the Range to the black Jalopy
I'm the shit
The only one who ain't heard is Foxy
Formalize a plan
No man can stop me
Balls all
Stat Quo
Ya copy?


It's the Re-Up!

Published by Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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