[Intro]
Yooo!
Welcome, welcome
We're ready to toss it up, the first Hip-Hop Annual
New York City and The Bronx [?] on the G contest
There's four acts left
So what we gon' do is we gon' break these four acts into two groups
We gon' put these two sucka a- I mean, these two hip-hop n***as together
Scramz and Hammerhead Joes
Up against my n***a Bumpy Knucks and O.C
(Yo, yo, it ain't fair, yo, these n***as is new n***as, man)
N***a, fuck fair, yo shit got to be sharp!
(Aww, come on, man)
It ain't about fair, yo shit got to be sharp!
Oh shit, look at shawty with the red
Ay, hol' on, don't smoke all this munk
Aight, listen, ay, ay, ay, listen
Oh shit, [?] before the police comes
And pull the motherfucking plugs out the lamp, that's what we got to do
So let's get this shit, ay
Ay, ay, what we gon' do is
We gon' need the DJ to give us a few jigga-jiggas
So we can get this shit on the road, and get it started, y'knowhatI'msayin'?
I'ma step to the side and smo- I mean, uh, talk to this bitch
ONE, TWO (Set that shit off, n***a)
[Hook: Bumpy Knuckles & 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
Ahhhh!

[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 n***a’s chest out to keep me motivated
My peripheral sees emcees that ain’t nice with these
So all my new rivalries’ll be emcee robberies
I got these n***as 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 n***as 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 n***as that be thinking they’re nice with their flow
It’s mad n***as that be fronting like they’re holding some dough
It’s mad n***as that’ll challenge me, and, after the show
They don’t wanna be Players no mo’, like Joe
N***as 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 & 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
Ahhhh!

[Verse 2: O.C. (Bumpy Knuckles)]
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 cypher, tryna take mine
From West Coast to East, I’m full-fledged
Bust the science, n***as 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 n***as 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, old a grudge, cold like a polar bear hug
N***as, what? Blowing up spots like a SCUD
[Bridge: O.C. & Bumpy Knuckles]
Win the G
Win the G
Win the G!
Hahhhh!

[Verse 3: Bumpy Knuckles]
Who’s that New York n***a left that be nice like be I?
G.I. n***as can’t see I, see, why
You new popping n***as and you crew-hopping n***as
Step up in my face, and Bumpy be 2Pac-ing n***as
If it'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
Kinda like you really never said shit on this mic
So if I diss a n***a 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 n***as is broke as fuck
Smoking weed, smoking woolies while I smoke your luck
And while your flow needs medical aid
I just appear on n***as’ shit and I still get paid
Now where’s my G, n***a?

[Verse 4: O.C. (Bumpy Knuckles)]
What n***as’ll think they’re made of steel and want to play brave? (UH!)
Bitch MCs will find theirself in a grave (HUH!)
I make slaves of n***as in ways never made (WHAT!)
Voice like an Ox or, better yet, sharp as a blade (Ha-HAAA!)
Intense the moment like sex when I’m boning (HUH)
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? (UH!)
I smite your ass quick, fast like Flash running past your ass
N***as’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, n***a