| Here
|
| Goes a little something for you and your mans
|
| Dedicated to you and yours from me and my fam
|
| Living life to the limit with the world in my hand, I got
|
| Nothing but love for your main man
|
| Yo, yo, yo
|
| With this here shit, I freak it like a wiz, and, uh
|
| Lace the track like my nigga Showbiz, I’m, uh
|
| Kinda sore with the microphone, pa, no doubt
|
| O.C. |
| gon' turn it on out—yes, sir
|
| Follow me now if you didn’t follow before
|
| How shall I attend to ascend this raw? |
| You pull up
|
| Onto a light, knocking my hits, flicking your BIC
|
| Gold chain thick to the chicks licking your lips
|
| They hop on it to my cassette like a cock, they’re fiending
|
| For what I give like puffing a rock, Mazola
|
| Food for thought like my nigga A.G., giving
|
| NYC, nigga, I live in it
|
| Let’s go, mess no, rhyme, I bless the flow
|
| Dipping with U-N-I, swerve, control the Lex though
|
| Bopping with Jigga, dropping jewels to beats, then I
|
| Bounce and ghost-ride with my main man Sweets—he can
|
| Wax a nigga
|
| Here
|
| Goes a little something for you and your mans
|
| Dedicated to you and yours from me and my fam
|
| Living life to the limit with the world in my hand, I got
|
| Nothing but love for your main man. |
| Here
|
| Goes a little something for you and your mans
|
| Dedicated to you and yours from me and my fam
|
| Living life to the limit with the world in our hand, I got
|
| Nothing but love for your main man
|
| As sure as my name is O.C., I hold much
|
| Testosterone and serve like hors d’ouevers—ha!
|
| I’m maximum, human saxophone. |
| You respect
|
| What I’m saying like Al Capone. |
| You crumb
|
| Bubblegum rappers I chew, blow you up, spit you out
|
| Like food without seasoning, you got no taste
|
| Yo, Ogee, who could solo with me? |
| (Uh huh)
|
| These kids be half-grown, and I’m an adult seeing it all
|
| I’m forced to Show-b-iz conduct proper
|
| My ways and actions far from an imposter
|
| Shine like bright light, your worst nightmare like
|
| Fright Night, coming to you live like a fight night
|
| Must you steal the way I drop bars on this?
|
| Perfection at its best, I’m marvelous. |
| Applaud me?
|
| You better. |
| I’m fed. |
| To get a response, control
|
| Shit at the snap of a finger like I’m the Fonz—fella, what up?
|
| Here
|
| Goes a little something for you and your mans
|
| Dedicated to you and yours from me and my fam
|
| Living life to the limit with the world in my hand, I got
|
| Nothing but love for your main man
|
| You say, «It ain’t so.» |
| How I freak the flow?
|
| Joey Crack type shit, nigga, blow for blow. |
| Big G
|
| Dog Tag Crew holding it down, Cousin Boo
|
| Will make a U and bust shots at you. |
| You see
|
| It’s my world or, like, so it seems. |
| Chilling with Preem
|
| Dipping on the highway in a Beem, and it’s
|
| A wonderful day. |
| Just cooling one night, celebrating
|
| A born day with a nigga named «Life,» we twisted
|
| Kid, you missed it. |
| At a down-low spot
|
| Champagne popping off like a biscuit
|
| ‘Nough love, word life, I’m high tonight. |
| No
|
| Brawls or fights, just men, no mice. |
| Indecisive
|
| About things in life alone, so
|
| Sometimes I speak in a hyper tone, see?
|
| I won’t neglect this, nor can you deny I
|
| Renaissance man, make it live, the fly guy
|
| Respect me like a Kennedy, acknowledge my identity
|
| O’s like a cure, I’m the source, the remedy—you know it
|
| Here
|
| Goes a little something for you and your mans
|
| Dedicated to you and yours from me and my fam
|
| Living life to the limit, lot of G’s in my hand, I got
|
| Nothing but love for your main man
|
| and (O.C.)]
|
| I got
|
| Nothing but love for the (D.I.T.C.), I got
|
| Nothing but love for the (Rockafella, Jay-Z), I got
|
| Nothing but love for the (Wastelands Family), I got
|
| Nothing but love for the (Mr. Cheeks and LB’z) |