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Obie Trice » Lay Down
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	You can get popped it’s a possibility up in my vicinity poppin off with that hostile energy, In a hospital when the doctor get at em when adrenaline’s mixed with an obnoxious temperment, Honestly I got a monster pistol grip the 9 commence to spit non of yall exempt from it, spit spit past tense from it, you get stiff from it, church mask in ya box from it. I will never let ‘em give it to me. I gotta live to be one hundred and three. Gotta reach my epitome, or decease my enemy, and receive my penalty nigga.. (Chorus x2:) Lay down!(Lay down!)Imma man, man. I ain’t runnin’ Imma stand wit my gun in my hand, I got plans and a place to be.(Nigga lay down!) I ain’t tryin to be cocky wit it, but im the nigga from the block that did it. Got a 9 that’s livid. Ain’t tryin to see the box in prison, get knocked outta my position. Now I got a pot to piss in, pissed off motherfuckers mouth off bitchin. Prolly cuz he lackin bitches, so his wack decisions get mad at the nigga that’s gettin ‘em. That’s when he see that that’s the nigga that’s hittin him wit a vigorous pistol over this rediculous issue. Dismiss you, in attempt to, take me out my mothafuckin temple nigga.. (Chorus x2) Niggas get nauseated an artist made it, had it hard against odds and emancipated. To the floss big cars, God damn they hate it to see the lady they dated catering to the latest, shadiest artist, up in my radius. Get faded wit a plated revolver, Rated me R, haters get faded wit horror, erased, no faith for tomorrow. All cuz he think he hard, tough. Got a carcus, he was runnin at the mouth hush. I will never let ‘em give it to me. I gotta live to be one hundred and three. Gotta reach my epitome, or decease my enemy, and receive my penalty. That’ll be the end of he, tryin to cease my entity, it’s fin’ to be the end of his identity when I tell him to.. (Chorus x2)
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