| (O.C.) | |
| Ahh you don't stop | |
| You don't stop you don't stop | |
| O.C.'s on the mic and you don't stop | |
| You don't stop you don't stop | |
| Big L is on the other you don't stop | |
| You don't stop and you don't stop | |
| Mr. Walt on the beat you don't stop | |
| Check it out yo | |
| Yo.. I'm lookin for the big C notes like Al Pacino | |
| Here's a new slang word: you pussino | |
| What it means is just that: PUSS | |
| My nickname to some know me as Mush | |
| Fly like a Testarossa, my God | |
| Do not attempt to diss me and my squad | |
| Diggin in the Crates crew click my brother | |
| I'm on the mic, Big L is on the other | |
| For those that know me, indeed I flow | |
| manuevers, like shells bust from a Luger | |
| Satisfaction, I bring the action | |
| Blowin your backs in, with only a fraction | |
| A mic set, mindset; O.C. design this | |
| finest, rap lord, Your Highness | |
| Pulsatin, vibratin, Shorty Wop | |
| on the dancefloor with the hips gyratin, c'mere | |
| Ass swingin like a chandalier; like | |
| a cat in heat, with her ass all up in the air | |
| Bust this, who said I can't cut the mustard | |
| Rappin is a bitch boy and I got a lust for it | |
| Chorus: O.C. | |
| If you want it, we got it | |
| Ladies, spot it | |
| No doubt about it | |
| Fly and exotic | |
| When we on the scene it's a major plus | |
| And whoever facin us we dangerous | |
| Chorus | |
| (Big L) | |
| I be that smooth cat you never seen rollin with clowns | |
| One of the few from Uptown that's holdin it down | |
| Hoes is on me like I'm welfare, even rich ones | |
| that live in Bel Air, is this Big L yeah, hell yeah | |
| Word up, I use a chrome gat to push domes back | |
| Watch how you talk when you call me, Feds got the phone tapped | |
| This rap game, I put my life in it, chain got | |
| mega ice in it, push an Infinite, chrome rims, light tinted | |
| You can see pal, it's all about me now | |
| Twenty G's a show punk three thou just to freestyle | |
| I made this cheese it didn't grow on trees | |
| Can you hold somethin? Sure, you can hold on these | |
| Yo I'm fat like the old Cray-on, smooth as Rayon | |
| L is who the ladies stay on (yea baby play on) | |
| I chew chumps like chewsticks, known for poppin new hits | |
| I know you want me hoe if I was you I'd want me too bitch! | |
| Chorus | |
| (O.C.) | |
| Time to show, who get it on like soap | |
| Derived from nature so I'm pure like snow | |
| Brown skinned nigga with a low cut Ceasar | |
| Travellin the world with my name on the visa, as said | |
| O.C.: Legendary already | |
| Rhyme flow cut like a machete | |
| First time rappers, I bust your cherries | |
| Bitch hold still so I can put it in steady | |
| The more you squirm, the more pain I'ma inflict | |
| She stayed still and let me pump this dick | |
| Microphone raw diggin, almost won't fit in | |
| I'm still hard when I'm bustin off semen | |
| Semi; y'all in my way, OK rhymes are gay | |
| I'ma make you a M.I.A. | |
| Cause I find you not a itsy-bitsy bit raw | |
| I'ma grind you like the bicuspidses in my jaws | |
| When I rock it feel like you bein fucked | |
| on all fours, this ain't meant for the stores | |
| This is for the niggaz in the clubs with thug mugs | |
| And for the chicks thinkin they cute without mustard | |
| Shaolin... "makin money" | |
| Niggaz in Brooklyn... "ma-makin money!" | |
| Queens and the Bronx... "makin money" | |
| Yeah, Manhattan.. "ma-makin money!" | |
| (Big L) | |
| I rock the blue face Prezzie, pockets heavy with cheddi | |
| I met these two lezzies in a Chevy Betty and Desi | |
| They like to menage-a-trois, then blase blah | |
| with L Corleone cause I'm a suave star | |
| (O.C.) | |
| No doubt Baby Pah, platinum rings, mean niggaz | |
| lookin at my ice from the chain it swing | |
| In the party, pop Dom, lampin like a Don | |
| Low key smilin at the bitches with my gold teeth | |
| (Big L) | |
| You can't fuck with the place cause we just too hot | |
| So all that mess you pop I suggest you stop | |
| Quit while you ahead cause you ain't built like that | |
| Better chill cause on the real cats get killed like that | |
| (O.C.) | |
| Mmhmm, two crisp type figures, clean cut niggaz | |
| Plussed out cribs rock twin Ac' (Acura) Vigors | |
| Livin life to the fullest gettin rich ain't far | |
| Chillin with women bankin dough avoidin sluts and scars |
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