[Verse 1]
Let the chime be a part of your mind
Let the rhyme intertwine like a vine
Work your Mentally-found intellect
I’ll raise Eyes like the sight of a TEC
Let’s take a trip inside of my thoughts
While I persevere on the mic like sports
Take me in stride, O.C.’s worth listenin'
Watch the tricks of a ho who’s a vixen
Tender eyes, they’re only leading to a hard-on
Touching tongues take two to be a part on
I’ll max, relax smooth it out like a sax
One of my goals is to make fat stacks
Then I’ll flip the money to establish a business
This here beat? You see I already quizzed it
I gave it a test for the rhyme linguistics
Honey wanna kiss? Gotta remove the lipstick
I dig lips with natural juices
Soft and lickable, not rough and ruthless
Because of many people, I’ve been denied
Gas in my tank taking me for a ride
But I’m alright now, smooth as the turnpike
Cause of my squad, Organized and Serchlite
Meditate daily I do, so I sought
Things I consider in my mind as deep thought
[Chorus]
Word, life
Word, life
Word, life
Word, life

[Verse 2: O.C.]
By the way
Do me a favor, give it a
Chance if a n***a has flavor. Years have
Passed—now training is over—of being
Intoxicated—now I’m kind of sober. Verses
Serve a purpose like workers, yet there’s
Clowns making Hip Hop a circus. Me? I’m an
Architect—mark my sweat—brain of an
Engine—better yet, a Corvette. Thoughts
Are surging like a sub submerging, some subjects
Never been touched like a virgin. Urging emcees
Beware of my wrath—I’m destroying all
Things that go through my path—it doesn’t matter the
Sex type, old or senile, n***as getting
Done by the potent in freestyle, rhythms are
Constantly switching and changing. Name is
O.C., I wrote and arranged this. Fluct-
-uation? I add it like seasoning. Before, I was mist
Now I’m more than a breeze and poetically
Astounding, drown the sounding. My brain
Responds to a beat booming and bouncing, 808’s
Kicking with the kicks inside it. You must
Coincide and not sound divided
[Hook] (x2)
Word... life
Word... life
Word... life
Word... life

[Verse 3: O.C.]
Crushing competition, dusting oppositions
Down the toilet, gonna flush your composition
Your scribes are weak, therefore, can’t speak for self
Against the man with a true mystique. I got
So many ways to flip phrases, flip those
Passing licks over the head of my foes
Fits I’m giving ‘em, it’s a living. If I don’t
Wanna take a ride with you, then I can’t be driven
Bound for town with a raw sound seeming to be
Lacking luster from of a lot of emcees
Skits get done by the misfit doing
Gimmicky shit, following the leader from a trend hit
O.C. got it going, sewn like a sweater
Better believe it that I get it busy to the letter
Pure and thick as a premature ejaculating
And if you had a girl, you wouldn’t be masturbating
Masquerading your personification as a
Lyrical lord when you’re just not fascinating
N***a, you need to stop flexing, stop
Vexing what you’re not—be sure about what you got
[Hook] (x4)
Word... life
Word... life
Word... life
Word... life