M.U.G.

[Verse 1: O.C.]

Penicillin on wax, the cure for rap, uh

Crooklyn Dodger #2 back on the map

Perhaps you thought I was gone – well, surprise, nigga!

Not physically, but I’m a massive figure

Al Pacino status, the baddest, exotic

Repetition like an automatic, can’t stop it

High potent, pulsating like coke-snorting

When I was a fetus, Moms thought about aborting

Important, am I? Gotta ask myself

But then I think twice, like a Gemini

Authentic percentage, calculating

My mind state equals infinite

Bizarre, pa, ain’t it?

Flow lethal like Drano, lava from a volcano

Scorching, torching the microphone, I lost it

Popping shit, who got my back?

Freddie Foxxx with the twin millies, burn your temporal lobe

Ayo, Foxxx, fuck these niggas, slice ‘em up like an ox, pop

[Verse 2: Freddie Foxxx]

Yeah, okay, it’s time to bring these rap cats from Fantasy Isle

I bring it to these fake niggas with a TEC and a smile

You know my stid-dyle

America’s most feared entertainer, yeah

From New York to Cali, I’m called an acid-rainer

While you fronting like you balling, son, I stays in the mix

Same bullets in your burner since ’76

Act like you can’t tell, shit be live as hell

Busting so many shots when my shells hit the ground

It sound like "Rock The Bells"

Call me Bumpy Knuckles, 'cause my hands be swell

From knocking niggas out, from the lies they tell

Oh well, I bet you feel me all up in your chest

I make the softest nigga catch a body, blame it on stress

And if he snitch, I bail him out and murder his bitch

And then sedate him with my four-pound clap

Shit’s only rap, but I’m living like that

So while niggas be talking like dogs and walking like cats

Niggas' mouths is getting way too fat

But O.C. and big Fid-Oxxx

We’re 'bout to bring it back

[Bridge: Sample with Scratches by DJ Premier]

"Let’s go back"

"I’m telling it just like that"

[Hook: O.C. & Freddie Foxxx]

We be money underground, but you can’t get none

'Cause if you step into my realm, you’ll be one dead son

We get love where niggas be scared to come

And we got a whole lot to give, but you don’t want none

[Verse 3: O.C., Freddie Foxxx, and both]

Yeah, yeah

Any nigga play high-post, I’m rolling over

O.C. weigh tons like a fucking Range Rover

Telling niggas to their face, that the façade is over

Now it’s time for this real nigga shit, can you feel this? (Yeah)

No question

We’re manifesting what we feel, bust up in your session

Smack niggas up like adolescents

Like at D&D, I can’t see a gang or no-motherfuckin'-body seeing me

That’s just pure fantasy

True indeed, son, we ain’t the ones

While niggas going out like that, we bring it on like Scarface

That means murder case, I bring highs to any bass

Disrespect the closed session and your ass gets laced

So all of these beats and these rhymes attached

Mean that real niggas on the mic, bringing it back

It’s mad potent, like good crack, it’s type addictive

All up in your mind, you don’t want hard times

[Hook: O.C. & Freddie Foxxx]

We be money underground, but you can’t get none

‘Cause if you step into my realm, you’ll be one dead son

We get love where niggas be scared to come

And we got a whole lot to give, but you don’t want none

[Outro: Freddie Foxxx]

What?