Obie Trice Lyrics
"Cheers"

A lot of motherfuckers man
Lou Green, Shyne Stringer, Keith Stringer
Lawon, Goo Serve, Little Randy
That's what I'm doin' this for (Ew yeah!)

Yeah, we ain't here to mourn
We here to celebrate
So this one is for all my dogs that didn't make it in the struggle man
(Ew yeah!)

I's remember when I was on the Ave. clutchin' them dimes
Gut touchin' my spine, bustin' my rhymes
Feelin' like I'm livin in them lost times
No sight of the future, damn right I shoot ya (ew yeah)
Palm tight on the Rooster
Old in the face, cause this hold on my case
Got my growth at a fast pace
Old folks like "O, oh he's a bad case"
He won't last, his track record'll do the math
Crack solicitation on the Avenue is not new to your listeners
but this is true, listen up
I gotta spew it and keep it all truth or else
I might as well give this up, feel me now
From rocks to pow pows, glocks to powder
I done did it all, so I clutch my balls
And notice they still here, so Obie is still here
So Kobe here's to you and daddy's new career

[Chorus]
So grab your cups of beer
Put 'em up let's cheer
Here's a toast to all my soldiers who ain't here
This is it my niggaz this what we boast about
Get your bottles homie, pour some out (ew yeah)
Now grab your cups of gin
Put 'em up let's win
Here's a toast to never lookin' back again
This is it my niggaz this what we boast about
Get your bottles homie, pour some out (ew yeah)

Now I understand every man got a story to tell
But fuck it, I got a story as well
Growin' up where us niggaz either buried or jail
Popped by "Dirty Harry" or popped by the cops for they
yayo, locked in a cell
Who's to blame when I was raised in this hood, where my crew was slain
Only a few remains, y'all talk about struggle
With your bubblegum lifestyle nigga fuck you
I'm here today for fam passed away
Bodies deep six nigga, flesh decay
Real cats who had techs to spray
Babies to raise, miss them cradles went straight to the grave
The hood life is in me
So I sip the Remy, while my pockets scream "give me"
Lend me your ear, I'm guaranteein' y'all feelin' me
Straight from the block to the industry (c'mon)

[Chorus]

Yeah, all my homies that's deceased rest in peace
My nigga K-F Ski, Little Green
P-Funk you'll be home in a minute nigga, ha ha, we get it poppin'
We got a chance to speak to the world nigga, ha ha, and I ain't stoppin'
Straight off the craft, three one three

(Ew yeah!)