O.c. - M.U.G. (Money Under Ground) lyrics

[O.C.] Penicillin on wax, the cure for rap Crooklyn Dodger number two back on the map Perhaps you thought I was gone, well surprise n***a Not physically, but I'mma ma**ive figure Al Pacino status, the baddest, exotic Repition like a automatic, can't stop it High floatin, po satin like coke snortin When Ise a fetus, moms thought about abortin Important, am I? gotta ask myself But then I think twice like a gemini Authentic, percentage, calculating my mind state Eat foods and fit it Bizarre pa, ain't it, flow you thru like draino Lava, from a volcano Scorchin, torchin the microphone I lost it Poppin sh**, who got my back Freddie Foxxx with the twin millies Burn a temperillo Aiyo Foxxx f** these n***as Slice em up like an ox pop [Freddie Foxxx] Yeah Ok, it's time to bring these rap cats from Fantasy Isle I bring it to these fake n***as with a Tech 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 frontin like ballin, son I stays in the mix Same bullets in your burner since '76 Act like you can't tell, sh** be live as hell Bustin so much shots When my shells hit the ground it sound like "Rock the Bells" Call me Bumpy Knuckles cuz my hands be swell From knockin n***as out from the lies they tell Oh well, I bet you feel me all up in ya chest I make the softest n***a catch a body, blame it on stress And if he snitch, I bail him out and murder his b**h And then sedate him with my four pound clap sh**'s only rap But I'm livin like that So when while n***as be talkin' like dogs, and walkin like cats n***as mouths were gettin way too fat But O.C. & big Fid-Oxxx, we bought to bring it back "Let's go back" "I'm tellin it just like that" Chorus: O.C. & Freddie Foxxx We be money under ground but you can't get none Cuz if you step into my round, you be one dead son We get love where n***as be scared to come And we got a whole lot to give, but you don't want none [O.C.] (Freddie Foxxx) {both} Any n***a play high post, I'm runnin over O.C. weigh tons like a f**in Range Rover (Tellin n***as to they face that the facade is over Now it's time for this real n***a sh**, can you feel this?) No question, we manifestin, what we feel Bust up in your session, smack n***as up like adolescents (Like at D&D, I can't see a gang, no motherf**in body, seein me That's just pure fantasy) True indeed son, we ain't the one While n***as goin out like that, we bring it on like Scarface (That's means murder case, I bring highs to any base Disrespect the closed session & your a** get's laced) {So all of these beats and these rhymes attached} (Mean that real n***as on the mic, bringin it back It's mad potent, like good crack, it's type addictive All up in ya mind, you don't wan't hard times) Chorus What?