There He Is lyrics

by

Obie Trice


[Intro]
Yesssss, ladies and gentlemen (Yeah, n*gga)
Bobby Creekwater, today's host
Today's narrator, yeah
(We do this sh*t every year around this time)
Today's what-the-f*ck-ever you wanna call it
But I need y'all to sit back, and listen
Listen, man (f*ck what you write man, just go get 'em)

[Verse 1]
An executive mindframe, f*ck tryin' to rap
n*ggas represent a corner, I refined the map
Artesian water, this is flow untapped
And rep for 'em like Mike on playoff night; that's if the payoff right
The Dream Team, Bobby Creek, Em, 50 and them
We run the city like Diddy and them
The opposition we just pityin' them, it's no chance
Put you n*ggas in the Special Olympics, it's no dance
I'm nice like a meal twice, n*gga, no grands
Get them b*tches out they pants—I did it with no hands
See, one thing's for sure, I'm pure uncut
Pimpin', you can either stay down or get gunned up
Mr. Night Life, I can give you n*ggas sun up
I just get an order, let my n*ggas pick the gun up
That's one up on ya, n*gga, wake yo' punk ass up
This is ammonia, f*ck your face up
b*tches won't even telephone ya
I can space age pimpin, a pocket full of stone ya
Ya dig? Take the world over, that's the gig
Sell enough units, have Paul and Jimmy dancin' the jig
Roll the Maserati through the city, me and Riggs
Bumpin' Obie Trice, shoot a bird at the pigs
Ever since a n*gga got rich
Life is still a b*tch but she a high-class b*tch
I just wanna f*ck with me a high-class b*tch
n*gga, pitch that on some eyeglass sh*t
See I classic, enough to get the mics back right
And I'm a fan of record sales, I don't like that hype
I'm here to end it
[Chorus]
Oh Lord, that n*gga mean, ain't he? Yeah
Goddamn, that n*gga clean, ain't he? Yeah
See, he a greedy baby
But some people tend to call him the return of Shady
There he is - goddamn that n*gga clean, ain't he? Yeah
Yea, oh Lord, that n*gga mean, ain't he? Yeah
See, he a greedy baby
But some people tend to call him the return of Shady
Bobby Creek, Bobby Creek...

[Verse 2]
Yeah, yeah
Nice like Mike right, you n*ggas soft as night lights
Diamond's a tall order I'm just tryin' to get the hype right
I'm throwed off, so hard, so soft, sold out
Bought the Coupe a color of nice weather and rolled out
I can't hold out, hot like a fish fry
Who the f*ck is this guy? The ruler on the disc I
Hit you in your soup coolers, I'm in the Coupe cooler
Than pigskin men, base runners, and hoop shooters
A loose screw, band money like The Legendary Roots Crew
This is just the sh*t that I am used to
Oh nah, I don't bust a chopper but I used to
Now I put the word out - I'm sure you n*ggas heard about
Young boss, old money, old school new paint
Ball knowin' you can't, give a f*ck what you think
Member of the mighty Shady Records, n*gga, you ain't
Think you f*ckin' with me then double whatever you drink
You can't fathom what the b*tches throwin' at him
Couple n*ggas hatin' on him but the fans waitin' on him
Like a, PlayStation 3, money for your advance
My vacation fee, ain't no use in hatin' me, n*gga
And don't sh*t-talk pimp, I'd rather flush
Anyone with big enough nuts to come and f*ck with us
I bust but keep in mind, pressure bust pipes
And you n*ggas wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight
What the f*ck? (Yeah)
[Chorus]
Oh Lord, that n*gga mean, ain't he? Yeah
Goddamn, that n*gga clean, ain't he? Yeah
See, he a greedy baby
But some people tend to call him the return of Shady
There he is - goddamn, that n*gga clean, ain't he? Yeah
Yea, oh Lord, that n*gga mean, ain't he? Yeah
See, he a greedy baby
But some people tend to call him the return of Shady
Bobby Creek, Bobby Creek...
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