92 lyrics by Obie Trice - original song full text. Official 92 lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Obie Trice – 92 lyrics
[Intro]
92, def-def-def-definitely you need to get your hustle on
92,  I can't breathe without my money
Active  in the hood

[Verse]
Ho boy, oh boy
Straight out the gutter where niggas had to fight for it
Risk  your life for it, take flight for it
Boxin'  awkward in the game just like Floyd
Grams rapid, wrappin' 'em up in plastic
Put  a tax on it to ship 'em off to addicts
Y'all ain't gotta ask about my actions
I was active in the hood, a crack activist
Nah, I ain't blow though, sold it on the low-low
Hustle  up enough to put grams on the photo
Pose in the momo, Obie is so dolo
Motorola explode, I was needin' to chase dough (92)
Erase hoes, por favor custo where's the pesos?
O in the O's mobile, holding on a dollar bill
Just to get a holla from lil' mama and maybe feels
Real nigga first, caught a 301
I'm pushin' them pills, watch 'em disperse
Hoppin' out the waffle house, what problem I'm facing?
Pager on my waist could probably feed a nation

[Refrain]
(Get your hustle on)
Nigga hoes sex sell out
I say "Pager on my waist could probably feed a nation"
Ch-ch--ch-ch-chase dough
(Get your hustle on)

[Verse 2]
Jump out the whips they're straight outta the sticks, and
Throw a bald eagle on 'em, nah, nigga dip it
Shoot the netty or the jam sound audio
Those 15's, I'm the man in mi barrio
Allow me to take you back to ninety-deuce
With a 40 ounce brew and a nickel and dime too
Disrespect B.I.G, I go see what the Ruger do
Years don't follow, you be with the losers brew
Beneath the core of whoever you love before
'Cause whoever you loving now keep open at heavens door
'Cause they coming for shorts, post-mortem, some orphan
Forced to grow up to hate Obie Trice origin
Pushin' the tourist, wrapped up oranges
Mappin' out somewhere cordial to meet a terrorist
Taurus on the hip just in case he can't afford this
Wanna take a nigga pre-cursors
Nigga I work for this, I murk for this
I erase your loved one who birthed you, bitch
Have mercy on him Lord, superfluous
I kept a pistol on my person, just for this, just for this

[Refrain]
92, 92, def-def-def-definitely you need to get your hustle on
92, dope boy, I sure hope somebody is listening to what I'm saying, 92

[Verse 3]
Crack poppin', Obie's nowhere moppin'
Often, mama had a problem with my logic
She ain't never stop shit, rest in peace Eleanor
All she ever wanted for them boys was what's better for 'em
What you think I'm sellin' for?
Way before the bail out, we was on the porch watchin' lady get a mail out (92)
First and fifteenth, nigga, hoes sex sellout
No disrespect, boy, might have been yo' mama shit
I'm just a hustler on some dope boy garnishment

[Outro]
92, get your hustle on, dope boy
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Songwriters: Obie Trice
92 lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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