M.U.G.O.C.

O.C. ft. Freddie Foxxx - “M.U.G.”
[Emcee(s): O.C. and Freddie Foxxx]
[Producer(s): DJ Premier]
[Scratches: DJ Premier]
[Sample (Multiple Elements): Michel Legrand - “The Saddest Thing of All” (0:00)]

[Verse 1: O.C.]
Penicillin on wax, the cure for rap, uh
Crooklyn Dodger Number Two 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. Ayyo, Foxxx
Fuck these niggas, slice ‘em up like an ox, pop

[Verse 2: Freddie Foxxx]
Yeah, OK, 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. and 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-motherfucking-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 base
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. and 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?