Win the GO.C.

O.C. ft. Bumpy Knuckles - “Win the G”
[Emcee(s): Bumpy Knuckles and O.C.]
[Producer(s): DJ Premier]
[Sample (Drums): Brethren - “Outside Love” (0:00)]

[Hook: Bumpy Knuckles and (O.C.)]
Yo, O.C., are you ready to win the G?
(The Gusto is coming home with me)
(Yo, Bumpy Knucks, are you ready to win the G?)
The Gusto is coming home with me
Yo, O.C., are you ready to win the G?
(The Gusto is coming home with me)
(Yo, Bumpy Knucks, are you ready to win the G?)
The Gusto is coming home with me, (coming home with me)
Coming home with me, (coming home with me)
Rrrrahhhh!

[Verse 1: Bumpy Knuckles]
Who got the
Hardest emcee style ever created? Who got
Celebrity status and is still underrated? Who got them
Two Glock nines that be black and nickel-plated?
And I’ll blow a nigga’s chest out to keep me motivated
My peripheral sees emcees that ain’t nice with these
So all my new rivalries’ll be emcees robberies
I got these niggas shook like Shake-N-Bake, cook like
I knock your punk ass out, wake you up, and I show you what I
Look like. Who’s that emcee that thinks that he can fuck with
F-R-E-D-D-I-E? Excuse me, Bumpy Knucks
I don’t give a fuck if it’s friend or foe. This shit is my job
To let you niggas know, so don’t take it personal
When I stick this verse in you, I don’t know what you gon’ do
Even if you get your crew, I’ll walk through the stage like it’s
Ho Stroll Avenue, tapping on them pockets, putting
Tabs on your revenue. Now dig this: it’s mad
Niggas that be thinking they’re nice with their flow, it’s mad
Niggas that be fronting like they’re holding some dough, it’s mad
Niggas that’ll challenge me, and, after the show, “They Don’t
Wanna Be Players” no mo’ like Joe. Niggas
Try to come at me with contemporary gangsta
Fusion, I’m smashing with the simple shit I’m using
Bashing and bruising. Who’s in charge? Bumpy!
Step up in my face, I leave your forehead lumpy!

[Hook: Bumpy Knuckles and (O.C.)]
Yo, O.C., are you ready to win the G?
(The Gusto is coming home with me)
(Yo, Bumpy Knucks, are you ready to win the G?)
The Gusto is coming home with me
Yo, O.C., are you ready to win the G?
(The Gusto is coming home with me)
(Yo, Bumpy Knucks, are you ready to win the G?)
The Gusto is coming home with me, (coming home with me)
Coming home with me, (coming home with me)
Rrrrahhhh!

[Verse 2: O.C]
I bring
The pain like a slice to your vein—fuck your fame, platinum
And gold plate don’t hold no weight. I be that
Prophetic soul-drainer. Ain’t a motherfucker in his
Right mind stepping in my cipher, trying to take mine
From West Coast to East, I’m full-fledged
Bust the science, niggas better know the ledge (Knowledge, boy)
O see all, I G. off. Enemy? I spot you
Two rhymes to my one verse, you go first. You’re tasteless
Face it. I engrave my name in the scalp
Like Damien, out for world domination. Don’t
Get me wrong. I don’t represent 6-6-
-6 figures. I’m just out to make figures. Who
Holds the threshold to be the best? I crunch niggas
With my gold teeth like vegetables
Carnivorous deliverance murder one nemesis
Like a virgin, I snatch your innocence
Talking bank robberies when you rhyme? Hold up
You turn pussy on the mic when I roll up
Coca-Cola, I fizz it like soda. While you
Say, “Butter,” I’ma say, “Mazola.” Money-folder
Hold a grudge, cold like a polar bear hug
Niggas, what? Blowing up spots like a SCUD

[Bridge: O.C. and Bumpy Knuckles]
Win the G, win the G
Win the G! Rrrrahhhh!

[Verse 3: Bumpy Knuckles]
Who’s that
New York nigga left that be nice like be I?
G.I. niggas can’t see I. See, why?
You new popping niggas and you crew-hopping niggas step up
In my face, and Bumpy be 2Pac-ing niggas. If there’s
Bitch up in your heart, I’ma find it. If you think I’m
Talking to you, then just rewind it. I got six shots
Behind this. Even with a vest on
You’re yelling because I aim for the melon
I’m a felon, and I bet you never been in a fight—kind of
Like you really never said shit on this mic—so if I
Diss a nigga hustling, that makes me a displayer, and if you
Buy my record twice, that makes you a two-payer, and if your
Girl like Donna Karan, that makes her a DK-er, and ‘cause
I hate your punk ass, that don’t make you no player. Without this
Record business shit, you niggas is broke as fuck
Smoking weed, smoking woolies while I smoke your luck, and while your
Flow needs medical aid, I just appear on niggas’ shit
And I still get paid. Now where’s my G, nigga?

[Verse 4: O.C]
What
Niggas’ll think they’re made of steel and want to play brave?
Bitch emcees will find theirself in a grave
I make slaves of niggas in ways never made
Voice like an Ox or, better yet, sharp as a blade
Intense the moment like sex when I’m boning
Iller than Caligula brainwashed the Romans
I set it. Let it be known: better beware, better be careful
Who dared to oppose my phenomenal flows? How dare you?
I smite your ass quick, fast like Flash running
Past your ass, niggas’ll end up with whiplash, but for
The moment, I’m zoning. Any opponents, I’ma cut it
Short right now because this rap shit? We own it

[Outro: Bumpy Knuckles]
Come up off that cash, nigga