Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Steven L King, Marshall Mathers, Obie Trice, Luis Edgardo Resto
Tweet this Song Follow Mp3Lyircs on Twitter
Send "Cheers" Ringtone to your Cell
Obie TriceCheers Lyrics:
[Intro]
A lotta' mathafuckas man...
Who Green, Shine Stringer, Keith Stringer
Lawan, U Serv, Little Randy
That's what I'm doing this for... [Verse 1]
Yeah... we aint here to mourn, we here to celebrate.
So this one is for all my dogs who didn't
make it in the struggle man I's remember
when I was on the Ave. clutching them dimes
Gut touching my spine, busting my
rhymes Feeling like im living in them lost times,
No sight of the future
Damn right, I would shoot ya, palm tight on a 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 will do the math
Crack Solicitation on the avenue is not new to you
Listeners but this is true
listen up I got a spew at 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 pow-duh I dun 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 ya cups of Beer!
put em up lets Cheer!
Here's a toast to all my soldiers who aint here
This is it my nigga this what we boast about
Get your bottle homie po' some out
Now grab ya cups of Gin! put em up lets Win!
Here's a toast to never looking back again
This is it my nigga this what we boast about
Get your bottle homie po' some out [Verse 2]
Now i understand every man got a story to tell
Buy fuck it i got a story as well
Growing up it was niggaz either buried or jailed
Popped by "Dirty Harry" or popped by the cops for the llelo
Locked in a cell, who's to blame?
When I was raised in this hood when my crew was slain
Only a few remains. you talk about struggle
With your bubble gum life style,
nigga fuck you I'm here today for fam that passed away
Bodies' deep six nigga flesh decayed
Real cats, who had techs to spray
Babies to raise, missed them cradles n went straight
To the grave, that hood life is in me
So I, sip that remi while my pockets scream gimmie
Let me get air, im guaranteeing ya'll feeling me
Straight from the block to the industry [Chorus]
So grab ya cups of Beer! put em up lets Cheer!
Here's a toast to all my soldiers who aint here
This is it my nigga this what we boast about
Get your bottle homie po' some out Now grab ya
cups of Gin! put em up lets Win!
Here's a toast to never looking back again
This is it my nigga this what we boast about
Get your bottle homie po' some out [Outro]
Yeah! All my homies thats deceased, rest in peace
My nigga Champsky, lil Green Pink Funk
you'll be home in a minute nigga
We get it popping' I got a chance to
speak to the word nigga
And I aint stopping, straight off
the crab. 313! (ohhh yeah)
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
See this song in a different language (automatic translation)