OBIE TRICE


Adrenaline Rush Lyrics

Get the fuck up, motherfucker

Hey yo, when i step up on the bar
everybody hits the fuckin floor
lucky motherfuckers make it to the door
cause when i spit on the mics, i spit raw
which cause confusion, from the bar to the dance floor
i keep the club on the vex
cause he got a penny when i spit and replace a lot of shit
niggas get the wildin
when my words, echo the room like "Get yo hand outta my pocket"
you sock shit, when my topics rockin
im banned from clubs cause of my toxic tonsils
loud, speakin like a fuckin sports announcer
i spit the blah hah, till you rush the bouncer
or rush the motherfucker in your way whos bouncin
you know obie trice, keeps those gats pronouncin

[Chorus]

Get live motherfucka, when i speak motherfucka
out ya seat mothafucka, out my reach mothafucka
shady records till i sleep mothafucka
obie trice, nothin but street mothafucka
tear this bitch up, until you bleed mothafucka
i wouldnt give a fuck who you be mothafucka
punk, pussy, bitch or g mothafucka
adrenaline rush before you leave mothafucka

when i speak, i blow out ya tweeters, im dark
show out in speakers, roll out with heaters
im just an animal, eatin the game
jungle monkey, fuck yah obies the name
i roll solo, never been a holdo
keep gats fo fo, when cats act loco
where you at when im movin a crowd
you get trampled, mashed on, detroit style
up out ya seats, pump out the ease
off the beats, the crowd obie please
where my niggas at smokin them trees
off the cogniac, finger fuckin a sleeze
thats how it is when you party with me
you dont like it, you l seven like a square beat

[Chorus]

Ever since i came, i rearranged the place with blaze
stage dive with coke ceivers, dna
im so addicted to gettin niggas lifted
drunk off of liquid
obie trice, the misfit
doucin the crowd with piss and brows
we underground mothafucka, fix your frowns
i be the boy with the whiskey tour
off of wiskey, youve never been this deep before
so, throw up ya hands and peep out yo mans
when i come through, next quarter
trice that the fiends use
and trust, im attackin it
i cook up the hot shit like ainslee havin it
thats why im so miraculous
and obie gets you niggas pumped up
i see you next collisiem chump
thats right, you come to obie trice fucked up
of ease, drunk, weed

[Chorus]

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Songwriter(s): Obie Trice
Copyright: Obie Trice Publishing, Almo Music Corp.
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