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story (original mix) - o.c. lyrics

o.c. – “story (original mix)”
[emcee(s): o.c.]
[producer(s): dj ogee]

[intro: o.c.]
d-mn. true. word. uh. yeah. take it how you want it to. fact or fiction. it’s true force

[verse 1: o.c.]
timmy wanted a name, trying to gain fame like a skeezer
robbed the spot and stole ice from the freezer
he’s a fool ‘cause he went in without a mask on
now he’s on the run, so he dipped to nebraska
hasn’t crossed his mind. his girl named olivia
she’ll take the fall for the jump from bolivia
asides that, he fat, living on his own-ah
diminished the friendship style, now a loner
relaxed while his family is gagged and tied up in new york
asking ‘em to confess his whereabout
no one fesses up, so the columbian scores a blister
shoving up a broomstick to his sister

[verse 2: o.c.]
everyone screams like h-ll’s souls are d-mned
mommy gets up, rise like bleacher’s bare fans. the ex-
-perience was “aww sh-t” like movie flicks, but the
men inside, they treat the women like tricks. one
beats his meat. the other columbian, he pounds mommy
down the longer timmy stays out of town. you’ll get
tortured—all of your babies and on—no slacking
for. the n-gg- dissed, so he insists return
he knows little of the pain that the family
endure. still, he deal his disease for sure. he had
a cure far worse like candy. kids steal from his
store, living off his heist like a crack wh-r-

[verse 3: o.c.]
“enough of the games,” one said. went open high
started with ma, gave her a columbian necktie
doing the daughter far worse, i tell. pulling her
skin back slow, peels off her toenails
raw skin exposed—plus, gus, that wasn’t all
they drenched her feet with a whole lot of alcohol
the babies were baked like cakes in the oven. no
remorse was governed—in their heart was stone-cold nothing
he lacked love for his fam. obvious, ain’t it?
he traded blood for money. just reading, picked up a local news-
-paper and paid it. “family slain. drug-related”
he stood stiffer than a patient being sedated
fate still blew upon you like wind. instead of
you, they took it out on your last line of kin, and now a
sour taste devour your breath. what’s left is a
thief that had his family tortured to death

- o c lyrics

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