Back to the previous page

Artist: Obie Trice
Album:  Bottoms Up
Song:   Secrets
Typed by: 

Ay cameraman, give me an up and over nigga
I'm 'bout to run this bitch

[Chorus: Obie Trice]
Baby we can keep this thing on the low
No one gotta know, when a nigga come through
See, I just wanna fuck you
And you just wanna fuck me - our secret creepin
Know a nigga got a hoe
And she got a home, that she gotta go to
See, I just wanna fuck you
And you just wanna fuck me - our secret creepin

[Obie Trice]
These niggaz think they bitch ain't cheatin
She in the club every week deceivin them
Hangin out with Toneisha and them
All in V.I.P. tryin to meet a new G with them
Yeah nigga, yo' relationship right
But your bitch got a dick on the side
You fell in love so she know what you about
You don't get her high, always on time
She need a nigga that's gon' fuck her brains out
Send her home, put her pussy in your mouth
Niggaz get comfortable, fall in love
They don't wanna fuck no mo', they cuddlin up
But see your wife is a slut, she's just tryin to nut
She wanna get rammed but her man ain't the one
So on the other hand she plan to get done
by a nigga who tell a lil' some'n some'n like


[Obie Trice]
Don't get mad at Obie
This is, harsh reality your broad's a freak
She wanna get it in wit'cha homie
Trust me, behind your back this week
Behind her lunch break there's a meet
Behind all that it's a low-key freak
But baby don't get it twisted, us niggaz is dogs
It takes five minutes to fuck, back onto y'all
Catch him up, naw, but you seen what you saw
That nigga say "It wasn't me"
He gets puss like around the clock
Wife ain't watchin niggaz bouncin on the twat
Even Peter boy diggin it out
All on the countertops drillin the trout
Fucked up thing babe it's your bridesmaid
This ain't J. Springer, this is Obie


[Obie Trice]
Nigga had his share of broads involved
But when they hit the gan' they just start to bawl
They say, "I don't know why I got your balls in my jaws
My man take care of the fam, no flaws"
No psychiatric visit bitch can help ya
You just like dicks in your throat, helpless
Niggaz come through, beat up your pelvis
Then you run back to whom think you precious
At home she like Aunt Jemima
All alone she like anacondas
Your man want answers, why play me dishonest?
Then he seek counsellin to keep Pocahontas
Niggaz pokin holes in there homie, be honest
You got a hoe fo' sho' for a Madonna
Dudes don't recognize the drama
'til another nigga get his thighs, got her and tell her