Tekst :
YeaThis is the Coon
I m with my man Mr. Trice
Def entertainment bout to take over this shit
Is yall mutha fuckers ready
Once again, is yall mutha fuckers ready.. yea.. yea
[Verse One]
Mr. Trice, One in a Mil.. Fuck it I m one in a bill..
fuck it I m one in a zill yo
This specimen is rare
A big lip nigga with an ice-cold stare
I cripple infinitely yall dare
any nigga with steel balls to try to front over here
You get done over here
Leaving niggas touch more than a LD off a blunt over here
Cake niggas be the beat eating
And since I got a sweet tooth I digest weaklings
Mr. Trice been caged for a minute
I hit the stage for a minute mutha fuckers turn timid
It s the T-R-I-C-E can you feel that shit
[Hook]
Is you mutha fuckers ready
Can you feel it?
Can you feel that shit?
Napp entertainment in the house
We representing for the 99.. . the new millennium
All that shit
Mutha fucker
How you love dat .. playboy
How you love dat
How you love dat shit
[Verse Two]
Mr. Trice Bodacious with flow
And barbaric in the way I let you niggas know
If blunt too much I still get frank
And if frank scantlis
Wait and see what bold think
We act off instinct nuttin more
Same goes for my dick with a dusty hor
I represent gore
Same reason all that red shits on the fuckin floor
nigga what you hear for?
You don t want to see me when I m angry
Too many of yall cats take Mr. Trice too plainly
A Plague disease infested
And I spread it all across your lyrical testaments.. Peasants
[Hook]
You peasant niggas ain t ready
Mutha fucker yall peasant mutha fuckers ain t ready
This was another Moss Production
We live at Napp Entertainment for the new Millennium
Blowin mutha fuckers out the water
Representing from the Mo Town
[Verse Three]
Mr. Trice on this rap shit I got it made
Its nuttin for me to find a spot in rap page
Disperse rep with body parts across stage
The big question is “Obie what s your age?”
Just cause I m a young nigga
Don t mean you can t get hung nigga
Or stung by a gun trigger
I be amongst viscous figures
Who hear nuttin
Just foot steps when you runnin
Mr. Trice s stunning actious staff
They got out of line I had to axe their ass
Exlax their ass
Italy shitted on it selves when
Mr. Trice brought the fuckin wrath
[Hook]
Hey yo he just brought the mutha fuckin wrath
Napp Entertainment putting their foot up in nigga s ass
You niggas ain t ready for that hot shit
We be droppin for the millennium
MOSS
Napp Entertainment
Mr. Trice
Executive Producer.. Mr. Wilson
Mutha Fucker this was the Coon
Opposite of other niggas
I don t give a fuck
Tekst :
The Book of Revalations, chapter 16 and 17,(yes, sir!)
They shall hunger no more, neither shall they thirst anymore
(Preach, Preacher!)
For God will wipe away,
(yes, sir!)
Every tear from their eyes
(yes, sir!)
Get ready for the revolution!
What you say,uh!
oh oh oh oh oh oooh oooh
Do you want a revolution?!
whoo whoo!
Say do you want a revolution?!
Whoo whoo!
Come on!
Sick and tired of my brothas killin each other
sick and tired of Daddies leavin babies with their Mothers
To every man who wants to lay around and play around
listen partner, you should be man enough to stay around
sick and tired about the church talkin religion
yet, they talk about each other, makin decisions
no more racism, no!, two facism,no! no pullusion, no! the sullusion,
A revalution!
No crime! no dying! Politicians lying, everybody s trying to make
a dollar
it makes me wanna hollar
they way they do my life, the way they do my life
There s gonna be a brighter day!
All your troubles will pass away
A revalution s comin , yes it s comin comin Revalution s comin
Yes it s comin comin
Kirk Franklin Rap: What you feelin ? what you want son?
who you callin to son? you know Jesus is the true Son.
The second in the trinity
i know you feelin Him, five hundred days until the new millenium
you hearin em, trumpets crack the sky, Christ the last,
The first, the fisrt,the last, the last that won t pass.
so don t be caught brotha, don t be slippin brotha
cause when i see ya,you better not be dippin brotha
Darkchild rap: everywhere we go, we say we move to much
we do to much
but when you step against us, a yo, you lose to much
ain t no stoppin what i m doing when the spirit is movin
don t be hatin what i m doing, i m the vessel he s usin
everywhere i be they try to judge me, they try to shake me
they try to budge me, but they can t break me cause
i m down with Christ,
darkchild and nu nation make ya feel better
Where my East coust saints at?
whoo whoo!
Where my west coust saints at?
whoo whoo!
where my detroit saints at?
whoo whoo!
where my dallas saints at?
whoo whoo!
where my ATL saints at?
whoo whoo!
where my miami saints at?
whoo whoo!
where my nashville saints at?
whoo whoo!
where my fort worth saints at?
whoo whoo!
All my real loud saints throw your hands up!
With their hands up, up, they got their hands up!
Tekst :
Obie Trice (Eminem) {Akon} [Intro]:{Convict}
(Yeah, SHADY)
{Convict Music}
(Guess who s back)
Still here, haters
{Akon & Obie Trice, Yeah}
Whatcha gonna do it with it, A?
Whatcha gonna do?
{Take em on back to the streets}
Akon [Chorus]:
I keep the 40 cal on my side
Steppin with the mindstate of a mobster
See a nigga pass by
Tuck your chain in cause he might rob ya
Got glocks for sale, red dots for sale
Anything that you need, believe me, I m gon lace you
Just don t whatever you do, Snitch
Cause you will get hit, pray I don t face you, yeah
Obie Trice [Verse 1]:
It s risky, the bitch tend to rise out a nigga
It s history, Snitch, who decided he s a member
Once he got pinched, coincided with law
Same homie say he lay it down for the boy
Brought game squad around ours
How could it be? Been homies since Superman draws
Only foniness never came to par
He had us, a true neighborhood actor
Had his back with K s
Now we see through him like X-Ray s
Cuffed in that Adam car
No matter, his loss, we at him, it s war
Knowing not to cross those resevoir dogs
You helped plant seeds just to be a vegetable
When we invest in team, it s to the death fo sho
No ex and oh s, tex calicos
Aim at your chest nicca
Chorus
Obie Trice [Verse 2]:
We started out as a crew, in one speak, it s all honest
Private conferences when we eat, Benihana s
Recondences when we peep enemies on us
Been on these corners, sellin like anything on us
Knowing heaven has shown us being devil s minors
That ain t got shit to do with the tea in China
We gon keep the grind up til death come find us
Meanwhile leanin in them European whips reclined up
It s an eye for an eye for the riders
We ain t trying to get locked up, we soul survivors
Po Pos is cowards, there s no you, it s ours
We vow this, mixing yayo with soda powder
Who woulda known he would fold and cower
Once the captain showed, he sold whole McDonalds
So no exs and ohs, tex calicos
Aim at your chest nicca
Chorus
Obie Trice [Verse 3]:
Nowadays, Sammy Da Bull s got the game full
So he move to a rural area to keep cool
He snitchin on a snitch now, there s nothin to tell
Nowadays, your circles should be small as hell
Ain t tryin to meet new faces, this don t interest me
Even if we bubble slow, we ll get it eventually
No penitentary, there will be no climacy
You will meet the lowest snitch in given us a century
These cats is rats now, the streets need decon
That s how they react now, weak when the heat s on em
Stop snitchin, you asked for the life your living
This act is not permitted, Nowhere on the map, It is
Forbidden to send a nigga to prison if you been in it
Along with em and then snitch and become hidden
So it s no exs and ohs, tex calicos
Aim at your chest nicca
Chorus
Obie Trice [Outro]:
You rat bastard