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young with style - o.c.& a.g. lyrics

[verse 1: a.g.]
i’m buggin’ on how she let me beat it all crazy when i knew her for a hour at the most – god d-mn, that’s the life
then i hit her cousin named roxanne and roxanne never heard of kangol or mix master ice
oops! went too far back – they keep comming like we selling crack, arm and hammer, bars and grammar
(it)’s the cook-up, look up see me in the rear view – soon i (‘ll) be in front of you – give’em a clear view
i’m wyling – use different styles on albums and a box, dress’em up without a thousand islands
y’all little n-ggas like malcolm before malcolm – never wishing on a outcom – my pain, my glory
d. i. ’til i d-i – won’t change my story
not see(ing) who came before me is major corny
like phil i can feel it in the air
my tears cleanse my soul – grab a hold of my fears
why is he just? grab a hold of them years – 360 months – 30 flat
the clap on this track take me back – hip hop in my blood is where they raise me at
god i wanna rap – so he made me that

[hook]
young with style – ruthless and wild
running around – spending money having fun
some got burried while others went to jail
running around – spending money having fun
young with style – ruthless and wild
running around – spending money having fun
taking it light, chilling, checking out girls
running around – spending money

[verse 2: o.c.]
i’m wyling cause
right after the show, proud of tearing down the stage
profusely sweating bullets – rocking the show with ‘a’
pretty young debbie was stressing – we get to talking about rappers, did she ask; ‘who is big daddy kane’?
my purpose being here’s cause of those before me
growing up i used to play the corner, guzzling 40’s
2-5 on my chain is how i used get in clubs, back in the days
but bouncers would bat you down!
i got a dozen n-ggas with me – my ego’s foul, ready to start sh-t yelling out “brooklyn’s in the house” (yeah, thanks)
ground photos, word to mother, posing like sl!ck rick – crouched down on first album cover
(?)rum(?) with coca cola on – i’m not talking ’bout soda (what you talkin’) – beneton with (?)emeleeze(?) on
le coq sportif, mommies with gold t–th, and el productos we used to roll ‘n’ chief
i used to get it in with grethchen, who had this connection with these dreads – bubbles and case – for her they had affection
and i realized later it wasn’t only her smiling
it was the power of the p. u. s. s. (son, you wyling)

- o c a g lyrics

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